In the Struggle for Love, Vulnerability May Be Her Biggest Challenge
Ahja, a married mother of four, talks about accepting her own mother's limitations and moving toward embracing the unfamiliar: authentic connection.
An Offering from The Black Love Inquiry
“I didn't realize ‘til I was in my late 30s that I had been struggling to get her to love me, and at some point, I realized…she's not capable of doing so.”
Prior to acceptance of that realization, Ahja* said that growing up with a less-than-nurturing mother had impacted her “in every relationship from my mother to my friends to my romantic partners...I’d keep entering abusive relationships thinking I was in love.” Ahja recalls a childhood devoid of nurturing, comfort, and authenticity and said,“That's what I thought love was supposed to look like.”
Now in her mid-forties, married, and a mother of four, Ahja describes herself as “funny, fun-loving, and playful. I want to say laidback,” she said, “but that’s probably a lie.” It’s “probably a lie” because, even since her realization, Ahja admits to an ongoing struggle with sadness and anxiety in her personal relationships.
Why? She’s afraid of vulnerability.
A mother who seemed invulnerable and who Ahja said “would eat me alive” when she, herself, showed vulnerability left Ahja ill-prepared for engaging with others authentically. And learning to overlook the “red flags” she saw in her mother’s behavior during childhood has her questioning her ability to recognize them in present-day interactions with other potentially “unsafe people”. After more than a decade of marriage to her children’s father, Ahja still feels uncertain about choosing to navigate some of the couples’ challenges, wondering, “Am I tolerating more abuse and calling it love?”
Ahja says that continually getting hurt in relationships makes her want to stop trying. But as a high-achieving Black woman with a challenging childhood, opting out of relationships could be detrimental to her overall health.
Early Life Experiences and Adult Mental Health
Research has shown that people who experience more early life disadvantages or adverse childhood experiences are more likely to endorse depressive symptoms as adults. Since Black adults have a greater likelihood of having experienced socioeconomic disparities during childhood, they are also at higher risk for depression than are other racial or ethnic groups in the United States (1, 5).
Within the Black community, women are more likely to experience depression than men (5). While advanced education and increased social support in adulthood have been shown to reduce this risk for Black men, researchers at the UNC Gillings School of Public Health say that may not be the case for Black women. One finding of their study was that Black women who had experienced numerous early-life disadvantages were 34% more likely to experience depression “regardless of education, financial or social support (emphasis added)", and theirs was not the first study to show this (1).
Depression and anxiety often show up together; this is called comorbidity, and it has been shown to be true in 75% of cases, with anxiety often setting in before depression (2). Childhood trauma, such as Ahja described experiencing as a result of emotionally immature mothering, is a consistent risk factor for the co-occurrence of depressive and anxiety disorders.
While education, financial support, and social support might not make a difference, research has identified marriage as a protective factor for Black women. A study by Robinson, Erving, and Thomas Tobin found that married Black women had fewer depressive symptoms as compared to their unmarried peers and suggests that unmarried women identify other sources of social support to reduce depressive symptoms. This is why it is crucial for women like Ahja to learn how to connect authentically – so that they can build and maintain lasting relationships that will help them manage, and hopefully avoid, mental health struggles for which their developmental backgrounds prime them.
Early Relational Experiences and Adult Relationships
As a clinical social worker, I’ve spent my career helping people change patterns and sort through perceptions they’ve developed about themselves as a result of navigating difficult relationships. I am currently exploring how Black women are impacted by the concept of struggle love – those one-sided, tumultuous relationships where we are expected to do everything we can to support and lift a (typically male) partner even if he’s not doing the same in return. Specifically, I am hoping to learn more about where we learn this expectation, and I suspect that the mother-daughter relationship is one of our teachers.
During our conversation, Ahja seemed to confirm, remarking that “seeing how [my relationship with my mother] played into every other relationship…rocked my world”. She decided to talk to me about it because she is tired of feeling isolated and wants to increase awareness for others who grew up under similar conditions. Talking to her mother and seeking support from family members did not turn out well for Ahja, as they were reportedly dismissive and judgmental of her feelings. Their responses only added guilt. Validation came from a few “friends that were loving enough to be like ‘that's fucked up…there is something wrong with that dynamic’.” Their feedback allowed her to see through the gaslighting and conclude, “Okay, so I'm not that crazy.”
Ahja wants to continue growing at recognizing and embracing safety in her relationships. She defined safety as being able to trust others and depend on them in balanced ways. She’s hoping for reciprocity, so she can “show up wholeheartedly who I am for others” while allowing them to do the same for her without worrying “that it's going to be short-lived” or that she’ll have to meet some arbitrary conditions in order to keep the reciprocity going.
Her goal will require vulnerability.
While Ahja’s childhood taught her that vulnerability was dangerous, researcher and vulnerability expert, Dr. Brené Brown, labels vulnerability “the core, the heart, the center of meaningful human experiences.” Even as she admits hating vulnerability herself, Dr. Brown says we must allow ourselves to really be seen if we actually want to be connected (4).
Moving Toward Vulnerability and Connection
So, how does a woman like Ahja begin pushing past fear to embrace vulnerability and connection?
- Tap into compassion for both yourself and others. Ahja expresses a recognition that societal abuses and constraints have traumatized a generation of mothers, especially Black mothers, who understandably struggle to acknowledge and regulate difficult feelings. Our mothers may have simply loved as they were loved, never having learned more supportive ways. Daughters of emotionally immature mothers will need time to unlearn skewed versions of love while learning to receive and to give authentic, healthy love.
- Cultivate acceptance of who you are and of what you’ve experienced. In a talk on vulnerability, Dr. Brown included a definition of courage: to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart, with an acceptance of your imperfections.
- Temper expectations, and prepare to set boundaries. Extending compassion and practicing acceptance does not mean excusing and continuing to tolerate unhealthy situations. Some people may never be able to embrace you in your authenticity. Recognize who those people are, accept their limitations, and establish boundaries to protect yourself from their treatment.
- Lean into the emotions that will come up throughout your journey. Anger, sadness, doubt, and lingering feelings of unworthiness are all natural emotions to experience while learning to relate to others more healthily. When leaning in feels too difficult, circle back to self-compassion.
- Curate your own support system. In Ahja’s words, "Find you some people that you can be yourself around and be messy, and they will embrace you in the mess and love you anyway but still call you on your shit when you're wrong." Having a circle of trusted loved ones who can provide unconditional acceptance, while also offering honest feedback, can provide the transformative experiences you missed out on with an emotionally immature mother.
If you find that you continue to feel disconnected from yourself and those around you – stuck in the habit of hiding, denying, and dismissing yourself for their acceptance and approval, it may be time to seek professional support. You might try searching for a relational, trauma-informed therapist who is licensed to practice in your state of residence.
If you live in the state of Louisiana, Texas, or Washington and would like to explore working with me, schedule a free consultation.
If you'd like to support The Black Love Inquiry by telling your story, let me know!
Sources:
- https://sph.unc.edu/sph-news/education-and-social-support-depression-black-women/
- Wendela G. ter Meulen, Stasja Draisma, Albert M. van Hemert, Robert A. Schoevers, Ralph W. Kupka, Aartjan T.F. Beekman, Brenda W.J.H. Penninx. Depressive and anxiety disorders in concert–A synthesis of findings on comorbidity in the NESDA study. Journal of Affective Disorders, 284, 85–97 (2021). https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jad.2021.02.004.
- Robinson, M.N., Erving, C.L. & Thomas Tobin, C.S. Are Distressed Black Women Also Depressed? Implications for a Mental Health Paradox. J. Racial and Ethnic Health Disparities 10, 1280–1292 (2023). https://doi.org/10.1007/s40615-022-01313-7
- https://brenebrown.com/videos/ted-talk-the-power-of-vulnerability/#:~:text=About%20this%20video,center%20of%20meaningful%20human%20experiences
- Cénat, Jude Mary et al. Prevalence and moderators of depression symptoms among Black individuals in Western Countries: a systematic review and meta-analysis among 1.3 million people in 421 studies. The Lancet Regional Health – Americas, Volume 44, 101027. DOI: 10.1016/j.lana.2025.101027
*Ahja is an pseudonym used to respect the privacy of our gracious interviewee.