Relational Trauma & RecoveryEmotional Regulation & Nervous SystemDriven Women & PerfectionismRelationship Mastery & CommunicationLife Transitions & Major DecisionsFamily Dynamics & BoundariesMental Health & WellnessPersonal Growth & Self-Discovery

Join 20,000+ people on Annie’s newsletter working to finally feel as good as their resume looks

Browse By Category

“I feel guilty complaining about my mother.”

Foggy seascape pale greywhite
Foggy seascape pale greywhite

“I feel guilty complaining about my mother.”

"I feel guilty complaining about my mother." — Annie Wright trauma therapy

"I feel guilty complaining about my mother."

SUMMARY

The guilt that comes with having complicated feelings about your mother is its own kind of trap. You’re not supposed to complain — she tried, she had her own pain, it could have been worse. But underneath all that qualification is real grief, real loss, a real relationship that didn’t give you what you needed. This post is about making space for that — without performing gratitude you don’t feel.

You’re in your weekly video therapy session with your therapist. You start telling her about what your friend shared with you over the weekend. Your friend told you how her mother is planning to drive cross country to social isolation with her and her baby indefinitely to help them through the Fall and Winter as her maternity leave ends and she returns to work online. 

SUMMARY

Many women with difficult mothers feel trapped between legitimate hurt and a loyalty that silences them—guilty for having needs that weren’t met, guilty for naming what happened, guilty for even noticing the absence of what other people seem to have so easily with their moms. This post speaks directly to that guilt, validates the grief underneath it, and offers a more honest framework for holding both the love and the loss.

Your friend was elated. Relieved. Gushing about how much she loves her mom and how her mom is like a best friend.

As you recount the news, you feel the tears in your eyes and your throat tightening thinking about complaining about your mother. You tell your therapist, “I just wish… no, never mind.”

“Go on,” your therapist prompts.

“No, it’s just that, I don’t know. I just wish I could count on my mother for the same thing. God, I can’t even imagine what that would feel like! But, ugh, I hate feeling this way. I feel so guilty for complaining about her. I feel guilty about feeling so disappointed with our relationship. Because I mean, she tries her best.”

  1. “Why do I still feel so sad?”
  2. Therapy is not about parent bashing.
  3. Let’s unpack “guilt” and “complaining.”
  4. You get to be upset with your mother.
  5. It’s not either/or, it’s both/and.
  6. We arrive at a more moderate, realistic view of our mothers and of reality.
  7. Why holding both views matter.
  8. Now, a caveat.
  9. Processing Mother Ambivalence Through Integration-Focused Therapy
  10. Wrapping this up.

“Why do I still feel so sad?”

DEFINITION
THERAPY

Psychotherapy is a collaborative process between a trained clinician and a client aimed at understanding and transforming the patterns of thought, emotion, and behavior that cause suffering. Effective therapy provides not just insight but a corrective relational experience, a new template for what it feels like to be truly seen, heard, and held.

You feel so torn. You feel conflicted.

Ambivalent Attachment

Ambivalent attachment (also called anxious or preoccupied attachment) develops when caregiving is inconsistent—sometimes warm and available, sometimes distant, critical, or intrusive. The child becomes hypervigilant about the relationship, never quite sure when connection will be available, and develops an anxious preoccupation with the caregiver’s emotional state. In adulthood, ambivalent attachment often shows up as anxiety in close relationships, difficulty trusting that love will stay, and a tendency to oscillate between longing and resentment in complex family dynamics.

On the one hand, she grew you.

She literally gave you life.

She held you when you were a baby.

And she stayed up late at night with you when you were sick.

Each August in elementary school she bought you new school clothes, a backpack, and three-ring Lisa Frank binders.

You know she loves you in her own way. And you feel guilt complaining about your mother.

And you hold these memories, this knowledge of what she sacrificed, alongside painful memories. Vivid memories.

Memories of being criticized for your weight and stockiness. Jokingly, yes, but still…

Memories, too, where you were shamed for your feelings – “Why are you so angry all the time? What’s wrong with you?”

Of being slapped when you talked back as a teen.

Memories of not having her emotional support when you needed it most and the reality of your brittle, surface-level relationship today as adults.

The kind of relationship that will never look like her driving cross country to help you out in your hour of need.

And you struggle with this.

You struggle to reconcile what you know you “should” be grateful for (and what you are grateful for, in some ways), alongside the pain and anger you hold in your heart towards this one very important person in your life.

If you – like so many people – struggle to reconcile your care and appreciation for your mom alongside your pain and anger with her, if you particularly struggle with this when trying to talk or “complain” about your mother in therapy or in any other context, today’s post is for you.

Is therapy just about bashing your parents?

I want to go on the record and say something: therapy is not about parent bashing.

What’s Running Your Life?

The invisible patterns you can’t outwork…

Your LinkedIn profile tells one story. Your 3 AM thoughts tell another. If vacation makes you anxious, if praise feels hollow, if you’re planning your next move before finishing the current one—you’re not alone. And you’re not broken.

This quiz reveals the invisible patterns from childhood that keep you running. Why enough is never enough. Why success doesn’t equal satisfaction. Why rest feels like risk.

Five minutes to understand what’s really underneath that exhausting, constant drive.

START THE QUIZ →

Therapy and therapists so often get a bad rap for making our clients exhume the past simply for the sake of complaining and “making mom and dad” wrong.

“Shrinks! All they want to do is talk about your childhood!”

I don’t think conflated generalizations like this are ever that helpful.

While therapy absolutely does invite you to turn backward, to look at what was, there is intentionality and clinical reasoning to that.

When we’re able to recall our memories, to make sense of them, and to feel all of our attendant feelings about those memories in the presence of a kind, compassionate witness, we’re able to support our nervous systems and psyches in healing.

So yes, while therapy and therapists will invite our clients to turn backward, to reflect on early life experiences, particularly with our primary caregivers and attachment figures, the goal here is not to “parent bash.”

The idea is to help you see your past, your history, more realistically and more cohesively.

FREE GUIDE

The Narcissistic Abuse Recovery Guide

If you’ve spent years wondering whether what happened in your family was “bad enough” to count, questioning your own memory, or feeling guilty for even naming the pain — this guide was written for you.

18 SECTIONS · INSTANT DOWNLOAD

We will invite you to talk about your mother (and father, or mother and mother, or father and father or grandparents – whatever iteration of family raised you) in order so that you can see things more clearly so you can integrate your experiences and get the support you need.

* And, for the intents and purposes of this article, while I use the term mother and birthing language, adoptive mothers and/or any parental or guardian-figure can and should be substituted throughout.

What does it actually mean to feel guilt about complaining about your mother?

TAKE THE QUIZ

What’s driving your relational patterns?

A 3-minute assessment to identify the core wound beneath your relationship struggles.

Take the Free Quiz

But now, let’s unpack and explore what it means to feel guilty and to complain.

Guilt is a signal, an emotional sign that says, “I have done something wrong.”

When we feel guilt rise up in us as we talk about our parents in anything less than positive ways, there’s a clue there for you to pay attention to.

Some part of you thinks you are doing something wrong.

What do you know about this part of you?

What did you learn was okay or not okay when it came to talking about your parents growing up?

Was it okay to ever have negative thoughts about them?

To express your displeasure with them to them?

Please hear me: You are not “bad” or “wrong” for sharing your painful memories about your mom (or parents or anyone) with your therapist.

You may feel like you’re doing something “wrong” or “bad” but that doesn’t mean that you actually are doing something “wrong” or “bad.”

If guilt emerges when you talk about your mom it means that, most likely, that some part of you is conflicted.

You’re likely conflicted because, at some point, whether this lesson came from your parents directly, or from your church or community at large, you learned that speaking about your parents in anything less than positive ways is wrong.

Regardless of when, where, or who you learned this from, it’s simply not the case.

You get to be upset with your parents.

You get to be upset with your mother.

And you get to recall, express, and feel your feelings about painful moments and memories with her.

Doing so does not make you “guilty.”

You have done nothing wrong.

And, moreover, sharing your feelings and memories of the past is not “complaining.”

Sure, technically, complaining is the expression of dissatisfaction or annoyance about something.

But aside from Dictionary definitions, the personal use of complaining in this instance is usually a pejorative, not a neutral definition.

When used as a pejorative, you’re essentially judging yourself for expressing your dissatisfaction or annoyance with your mom.

So let me ask you a question: Could you release that judgment?

Could you allow yourself to simply have your experience talking about her?

What would it feel like to allow yourself permission and space to share your experiences and memories about your mother without an added layer of judgment and guilt?

What would that feel like?

Why is your relationship with your mother not either/or but both/and?

“aw-pull-quote”

So, now that we’ve established that there is a clinical reason to reflect on your memories of your mother and that doing so does not make you wrong or bad, it’s important to understand that your experience with your mom was not either/or.

Your experience with your mother was both/and.

What do I mean by this?

Your mom was not fully bad. Nor was she fully perfect.

You may have many memories of her when she showed up as a good, loving, caring mother. A good enough mother.

And you may have memories, too, where she failed you. Possibly egregiously due to her own limitations and circumstances.

When we can hold both of these realities together – the mother who was good enough and the mother you sometimes (or often) failed you – we arrive at a more integrated view of your mother.

How do you arrive at a more balanced, realistic view of your mother?

You move away from idealizing and demonizing her – seeing her as only good or only bad – and instead towards integration.

In psychotherapeutic terms, when we fail to hold this integrative view, when we find ourselves thinking only in black and white, or all-or-nothing thinking, we’re engaging in a psychological defense known as splitting.

Splitting is an inability in someone’s thinking to hold the dichotomy of both the positive and negative aspects of someone else (or ourselves or the world) into a cohesive whole.

If you do have this tendency to “split” in your thinking, please know you probably come by it very honestly and that there’s room for this kind of thinking to grow and to change.

But, for that change to happen, you’ll need to practice doing precisely what feels uncomfortable: challenging yourself to see and hold and accept both the positive and negative aspects of another person.

Such as with your mother.

Why does holding both positive and negative views of your mother matter?

Now, it may go without saying but the ability to hold both positive and negative aspects of another person – such as with your mother – is a healthy, positive thing.

First, it allows you to actually have your feelings if you’ve been resisting acknowledging the painful memories or experiences you have with someone.

When we can name that, even though we love someone, they caused and are still causing us pain, it opens up the possibility for us to feel more fully, to make more sense of our experiences, to seek out the right supports, and to decide more clearly what, if anything, we may need or want to do in that relationship.

As the old therapy saying goes: “We cannot heal what we cannot feel.”

Allow yourself the opportunity to heal by acknowledging your full spectrum of feelings about your mother.

Second, when we can hold both views – both the painful and the positive aspects of our mothers – it can help you grow more accustomed to holding integrated views of others, and with yourself.

And when we can do this – hold more integrated views of others and ourselves – we deepen our capacity for more stability and flexibility in our relationship patterns.

We give others and ourselves permission to be imperfect, to fail, to have ruptures with us, and for there to be space for this imperfection and human reality in our relationships.

What important caveat should you know before processing mother ambivalence?

Just because your mother was imperfect and just because it’s good to hold integrated views of others, does not mean that I’m suggesting that you love her, stay in a relationship, or resume a relationship with her if that contradicts your own intuition and your boundaries.

I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again: having a relationship with an adult child is a privilege, not a right.

If it doesn’t feel safe, and healthy, and supportive for you to be in touch with your mother, then you don’t have to.

You’re always in control of your boundaries and who you let into your life as an adult.

This, I think, is one of the greatest things about being an adult: having a choice about who gets to enter your life. It’s something most of us didn’t have as children.

So even as we work to hold the dichotomy of both aspects of your mother, even as we work to undo the “guilt” you feel for talking about her in anything less than a positive light, please know you don’t have to be in a relationship with her if that doesn’t support you.

How does integration-focused therapy help you process mother ambivalence?

When you struggle to tell your therapist about your mother’s failures, prefacing every criticism with “but she tried her best,” suffocating under guilt for having any negative feelings about the woman who gave you life, you’re wrestling with what makes mother wounds uniquely complex—the impossibility of reconciling feeling guilty about complaining about your mother with the legitimate pain she caused, whether intentionally or through her own limitations.

Your trauma-informed therapist understands that mother ambivalence creates particular suffering because society, religion, and family systems often demand pure gratitude toward mothers while denying the reality of maternal harm. They recognize how “splitting”—seeing mother as all-good or all-bad—protects you from the overwhelming grief of accepting that the person who should have loved you best also failed you significantly. The guilt isn’t about actual wrongdoing but about breaking powerful taboos against acknowledging maternal imperfection.

The therapeutic work involves developing capacity for integration—holding both truths simultaneously without splitting. Your therapist helps you practice: “My mother bought me school supplies AND criticized my body.” “She stayed up when I was sick AND couldn’t tolerate my emotions.” “She loved me in her limited way AND that way wasn’t enough for what I needed.” Each both/and statement challenges the either/or thinking that keeps you stuck between inappropriate guilt and unexpressed rage.

Together, you explore what you learned about criticizing your mother—perhaps that it meant you were ungrateful, bad, or would lose her love entirely. Your therapist helps you understand that sharing painful memories isn’t complaining or betrayal but necessary truth-telling for integration. They validate that you can appreciate what your mother did provide while grieving what she couldn’t, that understanding her limitations doesn’t obligate you to accept ongoing harm.

Most importantly, therapy provides the relational safety to feel the full spectrum of your mother feelings—the love, disappointment, rage, grief, and longing—without judgment or rushing toward forgiveness. Your therapist models what your mother perhaps couldn’t: the ability to hold complexity, tolerate difficult emotions, and see you as whole even when you’re expressing “negative” feelings that were never allowed before.

Wrapping this up.

As I wrap up this essay I want to reiterate one more time: you get to have your feelings and thoughts about your mother.

All of them.

She was not perfect and she may have failed you and, in her own way, she likely tried to do her best (though sometimes people’s “best” is, frankly, awful).

No matter the unique context of your own childhood and your present adulthood, please allow it to be okay for you to recall and express your full spectrum of memories about your mother.

Now, I’d love to hear from you in the comments:

What’s one way that holding both the positive and negative aspects of your own mother has supported you and your own healing as an adult?

Please feel free to share your experience in the comments below so our community of readers can benefit from your wisdom.

Here’s to healing relational trauma and creating thriving lives on solid foundations.

Warmly,

Annie

Related Reading

Free Quiz

What’s Running Your Life?

The invisible patterns you can’t outwork…

Your LinkedIn profile tells one story. Your 3 AM thoughts tell another. This quiz reveals the childhood patterns keeping you running — and why enough is never enough.

Free  ·  5 Minutes  ·  Instant Results

TAKE THE QUIZ →

RESOURCES & REFERENCES

  1. >

    Ainsworth, M. D. S., Blehar, M. C., Waters, E., & Wall, S. (

  2. ). Patterns of Attachment: A Psychological Study of the Strange Situation. Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.Bartholomew, K., & Horowitz, L. M. (
  3. ). Attachment styles among young adults: A test of a four-category model. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology.Kernberg, O. F. (
  4. ). Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism. Jason Aronson.Kernberg, O. F. (
  5. ). Severe Personality Disorders: Psychotherapeutic Strategies. Yale University Press.Fonagy, P., Gergely, G., Jurist, E. L., & Target, M. (
  6. ). Affect Regulation, Mentalization, and the Development of the Self. Other Press.Bateman, A., & Fonagy, P. (
  7. ). Mentalization-Based Treatment for Personality Disorders: A Practical Guide. Oxford University Press.Shedler, J. (
  8. ). The Efficacy of Psychodynamic Psychotherapy. American Psychologist.Tangney, J. P., & Dearing, R. L. (
Why do I feel so guilty when I try to talk about my difficult relationship with my mother, even though I know it affects me?

It’s common to feel guilt when discussing parental issues, especially with mothers, due to societal expectations and a deep-seated desire for a loving bond. This guilt often stems from a fear of being disloyal or ungrateful, even when your experiences have been genuinely painful. Acknowledging these feelings is the first step towards healing and understanding your own needs.

I look like I have it together. Internally I’m still working through things from twenty years ago. Is that going to be my whole life?

Absolutely. High achievement can sometimes be a coping mechanism for unresolved childhood emotional neglect or trauma. Your success doesn’t negate the validity of your past experiences or their ongoing impact on your emotional well-being. It’s normal to feel a disconnect between your external accomplishments and internal struggles, and addressing this is a sign of strength.

How can I process my feelings about my mother without feeling like I’m betraying her or being ungrateful?

Processing your feelings is about understanding your own experience, not about judging or betraying your mother. It’s crucial to create a safe space for yourself to explore these emotions without self-criticism. This self-compassionate approach allows you to acknowledge your pain and needs, which is vital for your healing journey.

What does it mean if I constantly seek my mother’s approval, even as an adult, and feel devastated when I don’t get it?

This often points to unresolved attachment wounds from childhood, where your sense of self-worth became intertwined with parental validation. It’s a common pattern for driven, ambitious women who may have learned that their value was conditional on performance or pleasing others. Recognizing this pattern is key to shifting towards self-validation and breaking free from this cycle.

Is it possible to have a healthier relationship with my mother if I’m still holding onto resentment from the past?

Yes, it is possible, but it requires addressing your resentment first. Holding onto past hurts can block genuine connection and perpetuate unhealthy dynamics. Therapy can provide tools to process these feelings, set healthy boundaries, and potentially foster a more authentic, albeit different, relationship with your mother based on mutual respect and understanding.

Further Reading on Relational Trauma

Explore Annie’s clinical writing on relational trauma recovery.

WAYS TO WORK WITH ANNIE

INDIVIDUAL THERAPY

Trauma-informed therapy for driven women healing relational trauma.

Licensed in 14 states. Work one-on-one with Annie to repair the psychological foundations beneath your impressive life.

Learn More

EXECUTIVE COACHING

Trauma-informed coaching for ambitious women navigating leadership and burnout.

For driven women whose professional success has outpaced their internal foundation. Coaching that goes beyond strategy.

Learn More

FIXING THE FOUNDATIONS

Annie’s signature course for relational trauma recovery.

A structured, self-paced program for women ready to do the deeper work of healing the patterns beneath their success.

Join Waitlist

STRONG & STABLE

The Sunday conversation you wished you’d had years earlier.

Weekly essays, practice guides, and workbooks for driven women whose lives look great on paper — and feel heavy behind the scenes. Free to start. 20,000+ subscribers.

Subscribe Free

Annie Wright, LMFT

About the Author

Annie Wright

LMFT  ·  Relational Trauma Specialist  ·  W.W. Norton Author

Helping ambitious women finally feel as good as their résumé looks.

As a licensed psychotherapist, trauma-informed executive coach, and relational trauma specialist with over 15,000 clinical hours, she guides ambitious women — including Silicon Valley leaders, physicians, and entrepreneurs — in repairing the psychological foundations beneath their impressive lives. Annie is the founder and former CEO of Evergreen Counseling, a multimillion-dollar trauma-informed therapy center she built, scaled, and successfully exited. A regular contributor to Psychology Today, her expert commentary has appeared in Forbes, Business Insider, Inc., NBC, and The Information. She is currently writing her first book with W.W. Norton.

Work With Annie

Medical Disclaimer

Frequently Asked Questions

Absolutely not. You're not "bad" for sharing painful memories with your therapist. The guilt you feel likely comes from learned messages that criticizing parents is wrong, but expressing dissatisfaction isn't betrayal—it's necessary for integration and healing.

Guilt signals that some part of you believes you're doing something wrong. This often comes from childhood conditioning that positive feelings toward parents are acceptable but negative ones aren't. Your guilt is about internalized rules, not actual wrongdoing.

It means holding both realities simultaneously: your mother was both caring in some ways AND harmful in others. Moving from either/or thinking (all good or all bad) to both/and thinking represents psychological integration and maturity.

No. Holding integrated views doesn't mean you must stay in relationship. Having a relationship with an adult child is a privilege, not a right. You can understand your mother's limitations while still maintaining boundaries that protect you.

Examining early relationships helps identify patterns, understand current struggles, and process unintegrated experiences. The goal isn't blame but clarity—seeing your history realistically so you can heal what actually happened rather than what you minimize or idealize.

What's Running Your Life?

The invisible patterns you can’t outwork…

Your LinkedIn profile tells one story. Your 3 AM thoughts tell another. If vacation makes you anxious, if praise feels hollow, if you’re planning your next move before finishing the current one—you’re not alone. And you’re *not* broken.

This quiz reveals the invisible patterns from childhood that keep you running. Why enough is never enough. Why success doesn’t equal satisfaction. Why rest feels like risk.

Five minutes to understand what’s really underneath that exhausting, constant drive.

Related Posts

Ready to explore working together?