It starts small. Maybe she picks out your clothes when you're twenty-five, or she calls you ten times a day because she "just had a feeling" something was wrong. You try to set a boundary, and suddenly, you're the villain. It’s exhausting. When your mother doesn't see me as my own person, it feels like living in a room where the mirrors only reflect her face, not yours. You aren't a human being with your own desires; you're an extension of her. An appendage. A second chance for her to live the life she missed out on.
Psychologists call this "enmeshment." It sounds like a fancy academic word, but honestly, it’s just a polite way of describing a relationship where the lines between two people have been blurred into a messy, indistinguishable blob.
Dr. Patricia Love, a noted relationship expert, often discusses how this dynamic isn't usually born out of malice. It’s usually born out of anxiety. But knowing it’s "anxiety" doesn't make it any less suffocating when you’re trying to choose a career or a partner and your mother acts like your choice is a personal attack on her soul.
The Invisible Umbilical Cord
We’re taught that a mother’s love is unconditional and selfless. That’s the Hallmark version. In reality, some mothers view their children as "self-objects." This is a term popularized by Heinz Kohut in the field of self-psychology. Essentially, it means the parent uses the child to maintain their own sense of self-esteem.
If you succeed, she succeeded.
If you fail, she’s humiliated.
If you disagree with her, her entire world falls apart because she doesn't actually recognize you as a separate entity with a different brain.
This is why she gets so upset over things that shouldn't matter. You bought a blue car, but she likes red. In a healthy dynamic, that’s a non-issue. In an enmeshed dynamic where your mother doesn't see me as my own person, that blue car is a betrayal. It’s a sign that she is losing control over her "extension."
It’s kinda wild how many people think this is just "closeness." It isn’t. Closeness requires two distinct people coming together. Enmeshment is one person consuming another.
Why She Can’t Let Go
Most of the time, this stems from her own childhood trauma or a deep-seated fear of abandonment. If she grew up in a household where she wasn't seen, she might be overcompensating by "seeing" you too much—or rather, seeing a version of you she created in her head.
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There's also the "Parentified Child" dynamic. If your mother relied on you for emotional support when you were young, she likely never learned how to view you as a child who needs autonomy. Instead, you became her emotional caretaker. Now that you’re an adult trying to exert independence, she feels like she’s losing her lifeline.
It’s a heavy burden to carry.
You might feel a constant, nagging sense of guilt. Even when you’re doing something good for yourself, like taking a vacation or moving to a new city, there's that voice in the back of your head—her voice—telling you that you're being selfish. You're not. Taking care of your own life isn't an act of aggression against her, even if she treats it that way.
Common Signs Your Autonomy Is Being Erased
- She treats your personal opinions as "phases" or "incorrect."
- Financial help always comes with invisible strings attached.
- She "helps" without being asked and then gets mad when you don't show enough gratitude.
- Your milestones (weddings, promotions) are somehow always about her feelings.
- She uses guilt as a primary communication tool. "After everything I did for you..."
The Toll on Your Mental Health
Living in a world where your mother doesn't see me as my own person can lead to some pretty serious psychological fallout. Many adult children of enmeshed mothers struggle with "fawning" as a trauma response. You become a people-pleaser. You get so good at anticipating her needs that you completely lose touch with your own.
You might struggle to make decisions. Simple things, like what to eat for dinner or what color to paint your bedroom, feel paralyzing because you’re subconsciously checking in with her "internalized" voice.
There is also the "Emotional Incest" factor—not physical, but a situation where a parent looks to a child to provide the emotional intimacy they should be getting from a partner or peer. It’s icky. It’s confusing. And it makes you feel like you owe her your very existence.
Breaking the Cycle (Without Losing Your Mind)
So, how do you actually fix this?
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First, realize you can't "fix" her. You can only fix your reaction to her. If you wait for her to have an epiphany and finally say, "You know what? You're a separate adult and I respect your choices," you’ll be waiting forever. That realization usually doesn't come because her identity is too tied up in yours.
Setting "Internal" Boundaries
We always talk about external boundaries—saying "no," hanging up the phone, moving out. But internal boundaries are just as important. This means telling yourself: Her disappointment is not my responsibility. When she starts a guilt trip, you have to learn to recognize the "hook." She throws out the hook ("I'm just so lonely since you moved"), and you have a choice. You can bite and start apologizing, or you can just let the hook float by.
"I'm sorry you're feeling lonely, Mom. I hope you find a good show to watch tonight."
That’s it. You acknowledge the feeling without taking ownership of it.
The Low-Information Diet
If your mother doesn't see me as my own person, she likely uses information as a weapon. Every detail you give her about your life is something she can criticize, "fix," or worry about.
Start practicing "Grey Rocking." Be as boring as a grey rock.
- "How's work?" Fine. - "Are you still seeing that guy?" Yeah, it’s going okay. - "What are your plans for the weekend?" Not much, just cleaning.
By limiting the "data" she has about your life, you limit her ability to intrude upon it. It feels cold at first. It might even feel "mean." But it’s actually a survival strategy to protect the small space where your true self lives.
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Real Examples of the "Separation" Struggle
I remember a client—let's call her Sarah—who was 34 and still had her mother on her bank account. Every time Sarah bought something "frivolous," like a nice pair of boots, her mother would call and ask if she really needed them.
Sarah felt like a teenager. Her mother thought she was being "helpful" and "protective."
The breakthrough came when Sarah realized that by keeping her mother on that account, she was consenting to the enmeshment. She was providing the map for her mother to follow her around. Removing her mother from the account caused a three-week blowout fight. Tears. Accusations of "you don't love me." But after the dust settled? Sarah finally felt like an adult for the first time in her life.
The conflict was the price of admission for her freedom.
Moving Forward as an Individual
It’s okay to grieve the mother you wish you had. The one who would have cheered for your independence instead of mourning it.
Healing involves "re-parenting" yourself. It means learning to listen to your own gut feelings without checking them against hers. It means accepting that you might always be the "bad child" in her narrative, and being okay with that. Because being the "bad child" in her story is often the only way to be the hero in your own.
Actionable Next Steps
- Audit your communication. Track how often you talk to her out of genuine desire versus obligation or fear. Start slowly reducing the frequency. If you talk every day, move to every other day.
- Practice the "Vague Affirmation." When she criticizes your life choices, don't defend yourself. Defending yourself implies she has a vote. Instead, use phrases like, "That's an interesting perspective," or "I'll keep that in mind." Then, do exactly what you were going to do anyway.
- Identify your "triggers of guilt." What specific words or tones does she use to make you feel small? Write them down. Once you see them as "tools" she uses rather than "truths" about you, they lose their power.
- Seek professional support. Enmeshment is deeply rooted. A therapist specializing in Family Systems Theory can help you untangle your identity from hers without feeling like you're "destroying" the family.
- Build a "Chosen Family." Surround yourself with friends and mentors who see you as a whole, capable, separate person. You need to experience what healthy, non-possessive love feels like to recognize how skewed the dynamic with your mother has become.
You aren't a reflection. You aren't a project. You are a person, and it’s time to start living like one.