For years, I chased something that was never coming—my mother’s real approval. Growing up, I believed if I just tried harder, stayed quieter, or made fewer mistakes, she would finally see me and love me the way I needed. But no matter what I did, it was never enough. In my book, This Is Not My Mother: I Was Raised by a Narcissistic Mom and Didn’t Know It, I open up about that painful chase and how I finally walked away from it.
As a kid, I felt like I was always on trial. My younger sister got the smiles, the front seat, the easy forgiveness. I got the blame, the silent treatment, and the sudden bursts of anger. If I spoke up about how I felt, I was “disrespectful.” If I stayed quiet, I was “sulking.” There was no winning. I started believing something was wrong with me. Why else would the person who was supposed to love me most treat me like I didn’t matter?
That need for her approval followed me into adulthood. I’d clean the house without being asked, call just to check in, apologize even when I wasn’t wrong, all hoping for a moment of warmth that rarely came. Deep down, I knew the rules kept changing, but letting go felt impossible. She was my mom. Wasn’t I supposed to keep trying?
Everything shifted when I finally saw the pattern for what it was. The constant criticism, the gaslighting, the way my feelings were dismissed. It wasn’t because I wasn’t good enough. It was about her. Learning about narcissistic traits helped me understand that her behavior wasn’t my fault. That realization hurt, but it also set me free.
Stopping the chase didn’t happen overnight. I started small: journaling my real feelings, noticing when I was people-pleasing, and reminding myself that my worth wasn’t up for her vote. I leaned into things that made me feel strong—like going back to school for my degrees, picking up tennis, and reading books that lifted me up. Faith played a big part, too. Verses about God’s unconditional love reminded me that I was already enough.
Going low-contact and eventually no contact at all were among the hardest things I’ve ever done. There’s grief in letting go of the mom you wished you had. But on the other side is peace. For the first time, I’m building a life where my value doesn’t depend on someone else’s mood or opinion.
If you’re stuck trying to earn love from a parent who can’t give it, know this: you don’t have to keep proving yourself. Your feelings are valid. Your story matters. And healing starts the moment you decide you deserve better.
Writing this book was my way of closing that chapter and helping others do the same. You’re not alone, and you’re not broken. Freedom comes when you stop waiting for approval that was never yours to earn—and start giving it to yourself.
Read my story today.
