Demi Moore and Her Daughters: When Mom and Kids Split

In light of the new drama surrounding Demi Moore and her children, I am reminded of the times when parent-children relationships go awry. Parents, moms in particular, are stereotypically the ones who hold the household together. A mother is the one who puts salve on her child’s wounds. She has the right words to soothe her child’s heartache. That is, in most cases.

In some instances though, something goes terribly wrong.  An argument gets out of control and things are said that can’t be taken back. A child goes too far. A mother is unwilling to compromise. Something minute or too large to even imagine happens and rents asunder a once beautiful relationship, forever altering the mother-child bond.

In retrospect, my mother and I were never close. I am one of nine, the second child, the oldest daughter. So in that respect, my older brother and I were the ones she expected to hold things together while she worked. Still, some women just aren’t the maternal type. My mother, for instance, was never the loving, child-rearing type.

For some women, it just happens to be that way. From all the earlier pics of Moore and her daughters, she doesn't appear to be the type that I'm describing. Her family appeared beautiful, whole. But appearances are just that.

Although Moore may not have been this way, my mother was never the one to kiss the ‘boo-boos’ or hurts away; never one to talk about the ‘birds and bees;’ she tried to avoid the sex and dating talk all together, really. She was never one to hug, kiss, or show affection to her children.

Some say that ‘blood is thicker than water,’ but water nourishes every part of you and makes the blood flow in you possible. Blood too thick, in your vessels anyway, will literally squeeze the life out of you. It’s almost strangling you. My mother was no different in that sense.

By water, I mean the friends I’ve made, the people I’ve encountered throughout my short life; these people have meant more to me than any of my ‘blood.’ Oddly, I don’t find that sad. I think this occurrence speaks to the humanity of those who can love without bounds the unloved.

I didn’t go as far as getting a restraining order against my mom though. I simply divorced myself from her and her life choices. Her self-destructive choices made it difficult for me to keep her in my child’s life as I couldn’t condone her constant scuffles with the law. In time, I learned the type of mother I wanted to be and strove to be that mother for my own daughter by being my mother's opposite.

Now, as a mother, I kiss the boo-boos and every hurt possible away because I vowed that the anxieties I harbor over my own failed relationship with my mother won’t be my legacy. With every fiber of my being, I will try to ensure that my daughter never experiences what I did. That she knows that I am here for her. That although I lack the right words from time to time, my arms and my ears are opened, waiting.

Because when a mother and her children are at war, things are out of balance. It’s as if nature herself has become unhinged. It’s not the natural order of things and though it was the chaos my siblings and I called life in our youth, my daughter will never know the feeling of abandonment. Although none of my siblings deal with my mother, we tolerate her when she decides to make random appearances. Sometimes, we even invite her over for the holidays or dinner when she “happens to be in town.”

Because in the end, she is still the woman who birthed us. She may not be the best mother, she may have her issues, but we try, for the sake of forgiveness, for the sake of family, to look past the disappointments and see instead the similarities of features. Narcissism takes hold suddenly and I began to see myself in her face, the mirror of time standing before me and in my heart, I can’t completely ignore her.

Although the path of reconciliation for Demi Moore and her daughters remain unclear, hopefully, they will find a way to bridge the gaps and reconnect again. Besides, I would hope that if I ever screwed up badly, that my child, too, would forgive me and would somehow find it in her heart to let me in. Maybe someday, just as I've tried to move on and forgive my own mother, Moore's daughters will decide to let her back in to their lives.

***Original article appeared on N. Meridian is a proofreader, editor, author of No Crying for Elena and freelance writer of various subjects. You can follow her on Facebook at!/inameridian.***


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