My Mother Gave Me Bucket Of Love

I would like to confess that two years ago I went to see a Therapist due to my poor dealings with the
fact that one day we have to die.

Not to go into too many details for now, because this is something I would like to talk about in a future blog. He told me I was suffering from "Health Anxiety". He stated that it is a condition where the individual experiences a preoccupation with the idea or the thought that they are currently (or will be) experiencing a physical illness and ultimately die.

Because I love psychology, I was amazed to hear such condition exists, and more so when he explained the reasons why my view towards death is the way it is.

He explained that when an individual grows up seeing people in their family being ill all the time, or when one of their parents suddenly dies, in particular the mother - which is my case - we develop that health anxiety. So in order to help me more, he asked me to tell him about my childhood, my relationship with my mother and how she affected my self-esteem.

And I told him about the way she loved me and the way she always managed to me feel I was for her the most amazing child in the whole world.

I remember confessing to him that I do not rely on external emotional reward. I said that if somebody does not like me, I was OK with that and if somebody loves me I was OK with that, too. He asked "Why?" and my answer was "Because I am well-equipped to love myself "

He proceeded to give me this explanation - which is the core of this blog's  message.

He said...

"Marlon Your Mother Gave You A Bucket Of Love"

 She gave you that bucket which she kept filling up with the water of love. She knew that bucket needed to be filled-up over and over again, and she made sure the bucket was never empty.

He then said, yes you are able to love yourself and be emotionally self-sufficient - which is fine - however, the reason why you do need and enjoy external recognition and admiration is because that external love brings you back to your own childhood experience when your mother kept filling up the bucket she once gave you.

I burst into tears when he finally said, literally...

"You were  your mother's flower and she kept watering you"


In that therapy session, I cried as I have never cried before, remembering my mother's love.

I thought and still think, the metaphor he used to explain somebody's mother's love is the best explanation I have ever heard.

So I would like to reaffirm this: My Mother's love is the reason why I am the way I am, and I will never ever apologize for who I am and the way I express myself because one day, when she was alive, My Mother Gave Me A Bucket Of Love.

Marlon/Marlife