«Today we are adults and no longer helpless children»

Mrs Haarmann, many people who come to you for therapy have a poor relationship with their mother. What is the problem?

There is either too much or too little closeness. On the one hand, adult children report cool, distant mothers who don't allow any closeness and are hardly ever able to convey warmth. On the other hand, I hear the opposite: that closeness is becoming tight because mums are always calling, want to be close to their children and want to be in the picture about everything. This is a growing phenomenon.

What is your explanation for this?

Well, closeness is nice. Hugging, feeling connected - this has only been an option in parenting for the last 30 or 40 years. The post-war generation of parents swallowed their feelings. They had to be efficient and get on with it. Their children are now between 50 and 80 years old; they learnt to function at an early age.

Many have vowed to do things differently as parents. Now there are these mothers with their unfulfilled desire for closeness. It is important to understand how this need arises - but also that it is not the job of the next generation to compensate for a lack that the mother carries within her. Nobody can take away what we struggle with in life.

If adult children have trouble with their feelings, these shortcomings are addressed to the mother. After all, she was there for the emotions.

However, the mother often takes the place of the guilty party.

At least with my clients, the issue with the mother is usually immediately on the table. They also tell me about fathers who were unfair, punitive or unloving. But the sting is where the mother comes into play.

Why?

Our lives began with her, and for most of us she was our primary carer. With her, we learnt how to relate to and communicate with another person, i.e. the pattern of how we approach people and how trusting or insecure we feel. It used to be said that the mother was there for the emotions. If this is precisely where things go wrong later on, deficiencies are addressed to her.

It is also said that every mother wants the best for her child.

I would subscribe to that. Apart from a few exceptions, every mother wants to give her child the best. But something prevents them from doing so. I am convinced that a mother's ability to be present and loving is fuelled by her own backpack. How much support and love did she receive as a child? What resources are available to her when she is pregnant and later holds her child in her arms?

When adult children break off contact, this is an expression of utter despair.

Can she be a safe haven for him, build a stable, intimate relationship - or will worry, grief and unresolved horror absorb her energy? Then her own issues will take centre stage. This is where, now in the next generation, the sense of lack originates - and the often never-ending conflicts between adult children and their mother. The question of guilt is shifted back and forth.

In what way?

While adult children report emotional abuse or loneliness, I always hear the same thing from their mothers - that they had it good together and wanted the best. I sit in front of desperate older women who don't want to understand their situation and can't because they have hardly any access to themselves and their feelings. Meanwhile, the children demand that their mother admits her wrongdoings. The problem is that this does not bring them closer together.

Why not?

The mother goes into defence mode. By recognising her inadequacy, she would have to question herself, her entire relationship and family system. And admit to herself that what she thought was a miserable life was not so successful after all. If someone has tied up their grief well, it is also difficult to open this package again.

How is a debate more likely to succeed?

With questions that involve the mother's life: What were her circumstances like when I came into the world? What did she learn about love from her parents? Something unites all mothers who are at odds with their children: they already had a difficult relationship with their own mother. But that doesn't release them from the responsibility they have as adults for the atmosphere and the quality of the relationship within the family - the children don't bear that responsibility.

As a mother, you can't help but reflect on what the causes and background to the rift might be. Because you have to realise this: When adult children break off contact, this is an expression of utter despair.

So how should the mother approach the child?

With a different attitude: «Tell me, what did you miss, what did you experience with me? I'm listening to you now.» It presupposes that the mother takes what the daughter or son says seriously, that she does not reject their perception and is prepared to say what many children wait a lifetime to say: «I'm sorry.» That takes courage.

A mother once said that she would have to cry for days. I said: «That's what's missing: feeling your own pain and that of your daughter. And finding words for it.» But I am confident about the younger generation: they are speaking out about things that used to be kept quiet.

The term toxic is used in an inflationary way, self-care is confused with a radical focus on the ego.

And has different expectations of mothers.

In the past, it would have been unthinkable to question mum and dad. Fortunately, that has changed. We know more about the development and needs of children, about the health of the psyche and the importance of relationships. In the past, when the focus was on the material care of the child and not its emotional well-being, mothers' dealings with their children were less complicated, with all the consequences that entailed. Now the pendulum is swinging in the other direction.

Namely?

Mothers today are prepared to take the blame for any mistakes. If her child slaps another, she wonders what she has done wrong. If the child is too fat or too thin, it is due to her inadequate emotional or culinary care. I think this is the flipside of the development we talked about earlier. It leads to an over-psychologisation that fuels unrealistic expectations.

Our idea of good parenting is based on the ideal from developmental psychology literature - we measure the failure and success of mothers against nothing less. Over-psychologisation also harbours another danger: that relationships are generally overloaded with expectations.

We cherish an idea of motherhood that never lets mother and child out of their role.

Meaning?

Be it toxic mums, toxic partners or toxic girlfriends: This label is used excessively and self-care is confused with a radical focus on the ego. Anyone who is not good for me, whatever that means, is weeded out. As a result, contact breakdowns in families are also increasing dramatically. There are certainly cases that justify extreme measures. But we have to learn to take responsibility for our lives.

Today we are adults and no longer the helpless child. We used to miss something because our mother wasn't able to give it to us. Nobody is perfect. We would apply that to everyone else, why not to them? The role definition of motherhood that is common in our culture plays a part here. It justifies expectations that never come to an end.

You have to explain that.

We cherish an idea of motherhood that never lets mother and child out of their role. Indigenous peoples in America, for example, have a different attitude: you are a mother as long as your child needs you to grow up. Once it has grown up, you are released from your responsibility and the associated claims cease. Motherhood and childhood come to an end, two adults meet on a new level.