I finally know why I didn't feel maternal love in my childhood.

Recently, I read "Live Your Own Life" written by Wu Zhihong, from which I found some ideas. For a question that has existed for many years, I seem to have a preliminary answer: Why did I never feel my mother's love in my childhood, and it was always difficult for me and my mother to understand each other?

The book says: In the early days of life, they did not establish a basic trust relationship with their mothers or other caregivers, which led them not to enter the transitional world, never trusted anyone, and it was difficult to trust the information given to them by others in communication. Wu Zhihong's analysis opened another world to me and combed the past carefully.

I remember when I was in junior high school, my Chinese teacher wrote a composition entitled "My mother is very kind to me". I don't understand it at all, and I don't know what to write. I went to ask the teacher, what is a good mother for me? The teacher was surprised, opened her mouth and eyes, looked at me and said that your mother cares about your study and takes care of your life, which is very good for you.

I stayed for a long time, but I still missed the point. I still don't understand how my mother treated me well, and I don't remember how the composition was finished at last.

In my impression, my mother is always strict with herself and our five sisters.

I remember once, my mother took me from my village to the city where my father worked. At that time, I met my father's colleague, a teacher named Zhou. My mother asked me to say hello to Mr. Zhou and call him "Uncle Zhou". No matter how much they try to persuade me, I just can't talk. We never take the initiative to greet strangers in the village. I was too shy to say anything. My mother scolded me: "you are old-fashioned, so I won't take you to the park today." Later, they really only took other sisters to play and locked me in the house alone. I stayed alone all afternoon, and then I called whoever my mother told me to call. I always remember this clearly. At that time, I was unfamiliar with the place where my father lived, and I was afraid to be alone in a completely strange room.

Another time, I had a conflict with the girl next door, and my mother gave me a good scolding in front of others. I cried all afternoon, and no one paid any attention to me.

Once I couldn't finish eating the rice in my bowl, I secretly went to find a place where no one was there to pour the rice. It happened that my mother caught me and taught me a lesson. Since then, I have never poured a meal.

When I was a child, my mother always looked very serious. I don't remember my mother staring at me with warm eyes, although she praised me. As far as I can remember, I never seem to be alone with her. There are always many people with us.

With my thoughts, I remembered some past events of my mother.

My mother is a high school student. When she graduated, she was assigned to work in the county grain bureau. At that time, she was young and beautiful, and her job was good. It really went well, but it didn't last long. Because of her birth, she was sent to the countryside. None of the people they sent together were recovered, and everyone stayed in the countryside. Finally, only she and two others returned to work in the city. She was born near the city. Before liberation, the villagers had the habit of doing all kinds of business. They squeeze their own sugarcane into syrup, boil it into sugar, and pour it into various molds to make all kinds of beautiful sugar, such as lions, tigers and chickens. Some raised ducks and salted duck eggs are for sale. Preserved eggs are sold, and some people sell tofu. Villagers are richer and more advanced than people in other places. My mother picked bean sprouts when she returned to the village and sold them in the city. That's a good life, too. Someone was jealous and complained that she was engaged in capitalism. Later, someone came to cut off the tail of capitalism and fined her, making her lose all the money she earned. That's not enough. I have to ask my father to pay her a fine with the money saved. But at the same time, many people in the village have not been punished.

In a rage, mother left the place where she was born and raised, and also made her sad, and went to the high mountain where her father's house was located. But my father works hundreds of kilometers away, and my husband and wife are farther away. Because my father's home is located, there is no road, only a path, which seems to have no end forever. At that time, leopards and tigers often appeared on mountain roads, and hunters often caught wild boar, rabbits, muntjac and pangolins. Every time my mother goes to a meeting, she is scared.

It is impossible to catch several episodes a year in the alpine mountain area. Because it is too far, it takes four hours to walk to a small market town, so the children in the village basically play in the village and the mountains every day. Every day in the mountains, if relatives come to someone's house, the children in the village will run to the door of this family to see the people outside.

Mom is always busy. She is the only teacher in the village. In the small village where we live, except our family is Han nationality, everyone else is Miao nationality. Most Miao women can't speak Chinese or listen. As a teacher, mother has to learn Miao language and adopt bilingual teaching. In high mountain areas, there are trees everywhere. My mother is taking classes at school and changing her homework. Take three classes alone. The blackboard is divided into three parts. Students in two classes do their homework, and the other class has classes. It was getting late, and my mother took us to push the stone mill. The corn flour we ate the next day was all driven by us to grind the corn kernels into flour. My mother is responsible for putting corn kernels into the stone mill and pushing the stick at the same time. Our sisters are responsible for pushing the mill and often push it, so we fall asleep one by one, pushing and sleeping. It was over. My mother wanted to clean up, so we fell asleep. The next day, my mother got up early to make breakfast. Then, she rang the bell to announce the class. My mother is the principal, the teacher and the only teacher. She handles all the big and small things in school by herself. At that time, you could only eat a few meals of rice during the Spring Festival, and you had to take the rice out of the millet yourself. We live in an old-fashioned adobe house with Aunt Da Die, Grandma and four children from Aunt Da Die's family. When we eat, we are a big family. When we sleep, two or three children sleep in the same bed. We have five brothers and sisters. When I was two years old, my mother gave birth to three sisters. Later, I had four brothers and five sisters.

My mother can massage. I remember sometimes spraining my hand or ankle when I was a child. My mother will pinch it for me at night, and she falls asleep after every pinch. In our big family of more than 10, she is the only one with culture. Da Die is the leader of the production team. She needs to deal with many things at home and in the team. She is always too tired.

When I was in the second grade of primary school, my family moved out of that small village and lived near the city where my father worked. At that time, my youngest sister was only a few months old and was still nursing, while my mother was still teaching junior high school Chinese and geography.

When I was in primary school, I never seemed to fully trust any classmate, including my best classmate, and it was difficult for me to fully trust her. After graduating from primary school, I went to the key middle school where my father worked to continue my middle and high school studies. In the first semester of Grade One, a female classmate at the same table grabbed my hand and pinched the skin on the back of my hand with her nails. There are deep nail prints on the back of my hand, so I dare not hit her. Instead, report to the teacher after class and ask the teacher to separate us and not sit together. Since then, I have never spoken to her, and we have never said a word. After a semester, my academic performance changed from the last in my class to the first in positive numbers. No one dares to bully me again, but my inferiority and autism have not decreased.

There was a great difference between urban and rural areas at that time. I am a rural hukou, and my family is difficult, so I am discriminated against among my classmates. Some students nicknamed another boy from the countryside "Strong Labor". Every time a boy calls that boy his nickname, I always blush at once and think those classmates are making fun of me.

After my mother retired, I left the place where I worked for decades with my father and went to a city near my hometown. I was working in the first commercial house I bought. Considering that she and her father will come here to help me with my children, I live alone with my children, so I bought a new house for my own use. We've been together for years. She never liked me, and I didn't like her. When she argues with her father, I always speak on his side. Although I know it's really dad's fault many times, my mother often doesn't say it directly. She always thought we would know. She often says, "Don't waste money, just see the scenery." It's just that my emotional intelligence is very low, and I really don't know what she wants me to do, and my laziness in thinking and action often makes me not seriously think about what my mother really wants. She did the same to other sisters, unwilling to explain more, and finally depressed.

In the three years when she was seriously ill with a cerebral infarction, apart from her father, my children and other sisters were the ones who accompanied her the most. I'm too busy working, far away and seldom coming, but she only looks at me with disgust. In her heart, her brother is the most concerned. And I, on the surface, accompanied her, but I didn't think about her needs with my heart, to find the best solution to help her get out of her illness. My heart is also full of disgust.

After reading the book "Life of Your Decision", I realized that my mother was pregnant with my third sister soon after she gave birth to me. With the third sister, I have to take care of her, so busy every day. There is no basic trust relationship between us, and I am full of insecurity about the outside world. She is busy for the whole family and can't spare more time to grow up with me. In addition, I have been in an all-round narcissistic state, hiding my childhood grievances in my subconscious, and I didn't realize it myself. Psychologically, we have been immature, have not found ourselves seriously, have not learned to get along well with ourselves, and have not learned to communicate with the outside world, which leads us to be paranoid and autistic in our respective worlds. Many facts have proved that my mother has always loved me and paid a lot for me. It's just that I subconsciously deny and disapprove.

It has been eleven years since mom left us. Over the years, I often dream about my mother. In my dream, she was as thin as when she was in the hospital at last. I carried her on my back to avoid floods or disasters. We always run in our dreams. I know, I won't have such a dream again. I made up with my mother from the bottom of my heart Hard-working mother, poor mother, capable mother, I'm sorry I treated you wrong.

I have made some progress and gained some gains in how to communicate with children. I sincerely thank Mr. Wu Zhihong, who enabled me to start my own journey and know the direction I was looking for. "All love will not be lost, because it is always in my heart."