Releasing My Mother With Love | EP10

Today is my birthday. In this episode, I share a deeply personal story about my relationship with my mother.

For many years, I carried the belief that she had abandoned me as a child. That belief shaped how I understood love, relationships, and even how I saw myself.

But through reflection, prayer, and an honest conversation with her, something began to change.

I started to see my mother not only as “my mother,” but as a human being — a woman who was also navigating her own struggles and limitations.

This episode is about misunderstanding, healing, and the quiet power of compassion.

Sometimes forgiveness doesn’t come from changing the past.
 Sometimes it begins when we finally understand the story behind someone else’s life.

Email: elenaswy@gmail.com

IG: @elenaswenyu

Transcript

How I Met Jesus — Episode 10

Releasing My Mother With Love

Hi, this is Elena.

Welcome back to How I Met Jesus.

Today’s episode feels a little different for me.

Because today is my birthday.

Birthdays often bring me back to my relationship with my mother.

For many years, my feelings toward my mom were complicated.

There was a quiet distance in my heart when it came to her.

And a lot of unanswered questions.

As I shared in a previous episode, I grew up mostly with my grandparents.

My dad often traveled for work, and my mom worked night shifts.

So from the time I was born until I was about twelve years old, I lived with my grandparents.

Because of the historical context in China at that time — especially the one-child policy — there was a story that stayed in my mind for many years.

I don’t even remember who first told me this.

But the idea was always there: that my parents wanted a boy, so I had been kept at my grandparents’ house partly to hide me.

Whether that story was completely true or not, I never really knew.

But as a child, I believed it.

And when a child believes something like that, it shapes how they understand love.

So deep inside, I carried the feeling that my mom had abandoned me.

And because my childhood with my grandparents was not a very happy one, those feelings slowly turned into resentment.

Resentment toward my parents. Especially toward my mom.

For a long time, I also believed something about myself because of that.

I thought I was a person who was emotionally distant.

Someone who didn’t really know how to express love.

At the same time, I carried a deep sense of insecurity when it came to love.

And strangely, because of that insecurity, I often found myself seeking love in relationships in ways that felt almost desperate. It was confusing even to me.

Part of me seemed distant from love, and another part of me was constantly searching for it. And this inner tension stayed with me for many years.

During one meditation about my relationship with my mother, a memory surfaced from when I was very young… 

It was such a simple moment, but incredibly vivid.

I remembered my mom placing a large metal basin in the courtyard and filling it with water so I could take a bath outside.

The sunlight was shining into the basin, reflecting on the surface of the water, creating little waves of light.

I remember sitting in the basin, playing with the water.

And my mom was beside me, gently washing me with her hands.

To this day, I don’t know exactly what made that moment feel so special.

Maybe it was the warmth of the sunlight.

Maybe it was the water that had been warmed by the sun.

Or maybe it was simply that quiet moment of being alone with my mom.

But I remember feeling something very clearly.

I felt safe.

And I felt loved.

I’ve revisited this memory many times during meditation.

And every time this scene appears in my mind, I find myself in tears.

In that simple moment, I can still feel the warmth and tenderness that existed between my mom and me.

For many years, I had focused mostly on the pain I carried.

But that memory reminded me of something important.

My childhood story was not only pain.

There were moments of love too.

About two months ago, something else happened.

During a phone call with my mom, I finally told her something I had never said before. I told her about the beatings I experienced at my grandparents’ house when I was a child. And I told her honestly about the anger I had carried in my heart for so many years. I told her that deep inside, I had always believed that my parents left me there because they wanted a son.

My mom became quiet for a moment. And then she told me something I had never heard before. She said it wasn’t like that.

At that time, her job in the factory required frequent night shifts.

She was worried that if I stayed with them, I would often be alone at home.

Sometimes I might not even have regular meals.

So she thought that staying with my grandparents would at least mean that someone was always there to take care of me.

And then she said something that stayed with me. She said: 

“If I had known what you were going through, no matter how hard things were, I would never have left you there.”

Hearing that changed something in my heart.

At the end of that phone call, I told my mom honestly:

For many years, I believed that you abandoned me by leaving me at my grandparents’ house. And I carried that pain for a long time.

But today, I realize something else.

So many of the things I value about myself — my kindness, my courage, my curiosity, and my strength — they all come from you.

And most importantly, you gave me life.

Without you, I wouldn’t even be here.

When I said that, my mom began to cry. 

She was crying on the other end of the phone.

In that moment, I began to understand something I had never fully seen before.

She had been carrying her own struggles too.

I’m grateful that Jesus is helping me learn to see my mom simply as a human being.

I’m letting go of the expectation that she had to be stronger or better than anyone else. She was just a woman doing the best she could with the life she had.

And in accepting that, I feel a deep sense of peace.

Sometimes healing doesn’t mean the past suddenly becomes perfect.

Sometimes healing simply means we begin to see people with softer eyes — even the people closest to us.

And maybe forgiveness begins the moment we are willing to understand the story behind someone else’s life.

Ending Prayer

Dear Lord,

Thank You for the families we come from, even when those stories are complicated.

Thank You for the life we have been given.

Help us see our parents with compassion instead of judgment.

Give us the wisdom to understand their limitations, and the grace to release the pain we have carried for so long.

Teach us how to forgive, not by denying our past, but by seeing it through the light of Your love.

And help us move forward with peace in our hearts.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.

Sometimes the greatest healing in our lives doesn’t come from changing the past.

It comes from finally seeing it with love.