I find myself at age 38 yearning for that mother love. Friends often say, “friends are the family you pick,” which without those friends I would be in a puddle somewhere so for me that saying rings true. The difference is, however, that it’s different. When you have family living in Houston and they just refuse you, for idiotic reasoning, it doesn’t make logical sense.

I am extremely lucky to be able to coach a high caliber group of women made up of incredible mothers, successful business owners, lawyers, surgeons, writers, and everything in between. I know their kids names, camps they go to, major roadblocks or successes for them, and what their family dynamics are like. I am privileged to these mother’s dreams for their children, and let me tell you…they have dreams. I know everything. I know this because we share with each other class. Women can multi-task like mother fuckers...so there we are between sets, me listening, them talking, me responding. On the surface, I am really involved and offering whatever I can as help or advice. Deep down, however, I am shooting jealous arrows through my eyeballs at these mother’s unconditional love for their kids. How lucky these kids are to have these powerful, strong women at the helm of their lives.

I often ask the ladies, “what would make you never speak or be able to lock eyes with your own child again?” I like to ask this question as an open-ended one. I want to make them think and dig around to come up with a plausible scenario. Not one of them has ever come up with one damn thing.

At first, I found this experiment astonishing. Then I realized that the only actual astonishing factor was that I thought I would receive an answer from them. Maybe I was hoping for one, so my situation didn’t seem so odd or sad.

It has been fifteen years since I have felt a motherly touch and I have missed it dearly. What I have not missed is the mental toll its absence has taken on me. The power of manipulation, the anger, the taking of taking sides, pitting people against each other, and the persuasion of my belief in myself — that I was not good enough to even stand in the room with — are all issues I have dealt, and continue to deal with.  

I have been sad about this facet of my life for so long and it took me 15 years to realize that I have to draw a boundary. I cannot allow this type of person in my life. It is poison and taints my ability to know myself. The effects of this realization feel like a funeral. In a lot of ways that's exactly what it is, it’s grief, because what I want will never be again.

I tease several cousins about a ‘disturbance in the force’ when I know a parent is in town or near. It’s like I have a sixth sense for it. I do really know when someone in my family is near. I am on guard, sad, depressed, angry or more of a homebody because of their proximity.

Mothers that truly love, understand what love is, respect their kids, and at the same time have a healthy mental faculty will never turn against their kids.I encourage anyone reading this to go make your kid feel like the best human in the world. Only a mother could do that.