The Mother Wound: When a Girl Has to Grow Up Too Soon

There’s a particular kind of wound that doesn’t always leave visible scars but lives deep in the bones, in the nervous system, and in the emotional landscape of a woman’s life.

It’s the wound of the absent mother.

Sometimes absence is physical.

Sometimes it’s emotional.

Sometimes it’s subtle, your mother was there, but not really with you.

Maybe she was depressed. Overwhelmed. Addicted. Maybe she was so caught in her own unprocessed trauma that she simply couldn’t see you, hear you, or meet your needs.

So you stopped needing.

You became independent.

Responsible. Too early in your life.

You became the good girl. The quiet one. The peacemaker.

You started mothering yourself before you even got to be a child.

As a therapist and as a woman, I’ve sat with so many stories like this.

And I’ve lived parts of it, too.

The absence of a nurturing mother figure doesn’t just leave a void, it shapes who you become.

You might grow up feeling like love is something you have to earn. You might become the one who takes care of everyone else but doesn’t know how to ask for what you need.

You may struggle to trust other women.

Or cling too tightly to anyone who feels “safe.”

You may confuse attention with affection, or push love away when it starts to feel too close.

Because softness can feel threatening when you’ve learned that the ones who were supposed to hold you… didn’t.

You might even become a mother yourself, determined to give your children everything you didn’t have. And yet, it’s terrifying, because how do you model something you never fully received?

I want you to know this:

Please remember!

You are not broken.

You are not failing.

You are carrying a wound that was never your fault.

But you are healing.

Every time you choose to show up for yourself with gentleness.

Every time you sit with your pain and meet it with compassion instead of judgment.

Every time you break the silence.

Every time you choose to respond differently than what was modeled for you, you are breaking the cycle.

This work is sacred.

It is slow. It is not linear.

But it is powerful.

And the little girl inside you, the one who learned to be small, invisible, or good to survive, she’s watching you.

And she’s starting to feel safe.

Because now, you are the mother she always needed.

So if this speaks to something tender in you, something buried and long carried, I want you to know:

There is nothing wrong with you.

And it’s never too late to become the kind of mother you needed, for your children, and yourself.

You are the healing.

If this touched something deep in you, know that you don’t have to walk this path alone.

This work… healing the mother wound… is one of the most sacred and personal journeys a woman can take. And it’s the heart of what I hold space for in my therapy work with women.

If you’re ready to begin this journey, of exploring your story, your pain, your patterns, and the tenderness beneath it all, I’m here.🤍

This is not about blaming. It’s about understanding.

It’s not about fixing. It’s about remembering.

Remembering the parts of you that had to grow up too soon.

Reclaiming your voice, your needs, your worth.

Becoming the mother you never had, for yourself, and for the generations that come after you.

This is the work I feel most called to hold.

If you’re ready to begin, I invite you to reach out.

Send me a message.

Let’s begin the healing together.

You are not alone anymore.

With much love and care, 🤍

Aniela

photo: Pinterest