Psyched to Be a Modern Mother
by monica gallagher

(Published in the February 2010 Forum, the national publication of Mothers and More)

I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard someone say, “Well, past generations didn’t have all these parenting classes, or overanalyze all these ‘issues,’ and their kids turned out okay.” In general, I support this statement. Everything is relative; good instincts and advice can take people pretty far. One could argue people that my age and younger are more dysfunctional than past generations—just look at our credit card debt and obesity rates.

However, in my professional role working closely with neighborhood elders, I’ve also met a lot of people in their 80s and 90s who really didn’t turn out OK. They’re still carrying debilitating grief and pain from childhood, grief that may not have caused so many glaring scars with a little openness and recognition. Two of my husband’s female relatives believed they were dying when they first had their periods. They had never been told it was coming. One of these women learned that her lifelong dream of completing art school was over when the principal informed her the semester’s tuition hadn’t been paid by her father, who had mysteriously arrived at the conclusion she wasn’t performing up to his standards. Discussing sensitive topics with one's children—or other mothers—wasn’t encouraged for many of the Greatest Generation.

Mary Pipher is a psychologist and author of Another Country: Navigating the Emotional Terrain of Our Elders (2000). She claims that the significant change in generational identity came not with technology, but with the widespread awareness of psychology. I tend to believe this. Airplane travel and iPods haven’t changed the way we view ourselves and our relationships the way pop psychology has. Almost nothing is taboo on Facebook, it seems, but technology alone did not have the power to remove the taboo from discussing depression, sex, or even painful sibling rivalry. That took decades of psychologists and talk show hosts.

It is heartbreaking to realize that the 80-year-old I am visiting carries wounds that haven’t healed in 72 years, when she was eight and forced to take on primary responsibility for her five younger siblings. Her mom was disinterested in mothering or housework. “Do you think it could have been depression?” I ask conversationally. “Probably,” sighs Betty, her daughter, so many years later.

My late mother, Mary Jo, experienced serious episodes of addiction, depression, and even a couple brief psychotic breaks from reality. She also worked as a nurse at an addiction recovery program heavy in psychological jargon, read self-help books prodigiously and shared important parts of her mental health journeys with her seven children as we got older. In my adulthood, she and I could not discuss everything, but we had some wonderful conversations. In my cheekier moments, I would mention an aspect of her parenting I found fault with, and she was able to agree matter-of-factly with my assessment without any denial or self-flagellation. She could name her mistakes, and some of the isolation and lack of support that contributed as well. This brave and honest response validated powerful tools for me as a developing woman: my unique perspective and ability to analyze important history and my identity as a whole, competent person despite my parents’ mistakes. Eight years into motherhood, I also appreciate my mother’s ability to own her caregiving weaknesses while continuing to love herself.

I have three close friends who are mothers and women with depression diagnoses. All are high-functioning people in every way, holding down challenging jobs and raising competent, secure children. But as intelligent, aware mothers, they know too many low-energy days or negative moods may impact these children, and the prospect of the genetic or behavioral transmission of depression is a terrifying thought. Sometimes when I’m with them, we venture into the loaded topic of how our emotional states affect our childcare work. We reassure one another that a few blue days at a time won’t doom our children. Talking openly about the topic while those children play and laugh together in another room definitely makes it feel less loaded and fraught with danger.

As I sit in bed, looking for some refresher strategies that appeal to my gut instinct AND will help my husband and me through the latest parenting challenge, these are some of the stories I carry. I remain willing to risk overly psychological approaches to mothering and relationships. When I go one step further and bounce these ideas off friends, the rewards are even greater. Books and theories won’t solve all our problems, but naming our most important struggles together can only help us see them more clearly.


Monica Gallagher is a parent, social worker, and amateur pop psychologist whose mother liked to say such things as, “You need to get better at delaying gratification” and “The Latin root of sarcasm is ‘to tear flesh’.” She is a member of Twin Cities East, MN Chapter 299.