This version of motherhood

Saturday, I celebrated my birthday. My favourite present? Both my daughters came for the weekend, along with all three of my granddaughters. Best present ever! Chaos reigned with a baby, a toddler, and a 4-year-old, much laughter and squealing, toys strewn everywhere, and loads of books read and songs sung.

I barely lifted a finger this weekend, except to snuggle my grandbabies. Partly because of my arthritic knee, but more so because my girls took over - helping my husband with meal prep, making coffee, and cleaning up. All without being told to do so! I smile as I write these words because it has been a long time since I have told my daughters to do anything! Then, while the grandchildren took naps, I enjoyed long conversations with my girls.

I spent years doing my best to raise my girls. Along the way, I set limits, helped, encouraged, advised, and supported. Then, almost imperceptibly, my little girls became adults, and our relationship changed.

I am still very much a mother to these two amazing women, now in their mid-thirties. I still worry. I am proud of their successes. My heart still aches when they hurt. And yes, I still give them advice, although I try really hard to do so only when asked.

But gradually, my role has changed. The transition hasn’t so much been from parenting to not parenting. It has been a shift from being the guide, and yes, the authority, to having a reciprocal adult relationship built on autonomy, mutuality and connection.

I did not have a similar relationship with my mother. My husband and I still talk about it. Rather than accepting our decisions and opinions, we were questioned and criticized. My mother, always a judgmental woman, tempered what she said to most people. I bared the brunt of her disdain as she vocalized what she thought of my husband, my girls and me.

The few times I quietly corrected her, or when upset, challenged her comments, she would storm out or slam the phone down. The silent treatment would follow until my father called, pleading with me to reach out to her.

This is not the way we have parented our girls. As they grew up, we remained close, but the nature of that closeness evolved. We began offering support that strengthened their confidence in their own abilities. And when we thought they were making a mistake? We did our best to let them make their own decisions.

These days I try to acknowledge when I am wrong, avoid judgment, and give advice when it is asked for rather than just offering it. Our relationship has become: “I'm here if you want me” rather than “Here's what you should do.”

My daughters still come to me for advice and support. And apparently, I’m not alone. In a 2024 survey, 47% of mothers said their adult children come to them for advice on subjects such as careers, health and mental health. Forty-one percent said their children rely on them for emotional support.

But the finding that really caught my attention was this: almost half of mothers also said they rely on their children for emotional support.

I sometimes wonder what my mother thought of my relationship with my daughters. I imagine she might have been envious. My girls do not need to defer to me simply because I am their mother. We can disagree without withdrawing from one another. We can advise without expecting it to be followed. We can lean on each other and know we will not be judged.

I spent years teaching my daughters how to become independent women. I spent just as long learning to be a different mother than my mother.

Our relationship has come full circle, but not back to where it began. It is now less about raising them and more about knowing them. Less about guiding and more about listening. Less about being needed and more about being connected.

Perhaps that is one of the unexpected gifts of watching our children grow up. We don't lose our role as mothers. In this version of motherhood we get to discover what the relationship can become when we see our children as adults.