The Deep Longing for a Katniss Everdeen to Take My Loneliness Away
Healing the Mother Wound
Healing the Mother Wound
For some reason the other week I felt compelled to watch the Hunger Games films again. No idea why. And I could have never foreseen that this would lead to a revelation about my childhood and a deep release of stored grief.
So I watched the first three films and then decided to read the books before I finished the last film. I’m weird like that. Over the next two weeks, I devoured Suzanne Collins’s novels. Losing myself in the world of Panam and Katniss’ inner monologue.
The Revelation
But the thing that had me hooked more than anything was the love triangle between Katniss, Gale, and Peeta. And I noticed something as I was reading the books and watching the films… there was a sadness within me and a longing for a girl like Katniss/Jennifer Lawrence. It’s strange to say that the line between the fictional character Katniss and the actress J-law became blurred. And I saw myself in Peeta, the underdog, the martyr who would ‘die for the woman’ as he could not live without her. I was rooting for him and Katniss as if I was rooting for myself to be saved.
This longing for a woman/girl to save me is very familiar. I first felt it when I was ten years old. It’s a longing that says:
‘I want a girl to save me from the overwhelming loneliness I feel within my heart’.
The first girl to be the object of my longing was Zoey from Zoey 101 or Jamie Lynn Spears. I remember watching that programme and being simultaneously captivated by the show but also feeling that deep sadness, longing, and inferiority.
The inferiority says:
‘I could never get a girl like that’
And out of this inferiority, the desire to be famous is born. For if I’m famous then I’m worthy of a girl like that and I’m saved from the loneliness. In other words ‘I am enough’.
I can see, and feel this part of me so clearly as I’m reading these books. And I can see that this was how I coped with the painful parts of my childhood. This fantasy gave me hope, hope that there was a version of my reality where I’d feel worthy, loved, and important.
This is all connected to my own mother wound. The separation I experienced as a child from my mum. Not literally separated, although I did experience this in my teens when my parents got divorced. But emotionally separated.
I wasn’t able to soothe myself, and feel safe and comforted by the presence of a grounded adult. So I sought these unmet needs out in the girls I fantasised about. The fantasies tend to include cuddles or simply being with the other — where I am soothed. And it’s a lot easier to fantasise about a fictional character or actress on a screen. The girls became my mother object and my attempt to meet these unmet needs.
So I’m looking at Jennifer Lawrence and I feel all this again. The only difference now is that I’m a thirty-year-old [almost!] with more self-awareness who’s done a shit load of therapy. But I’m also living a life I no longer wish to escape from.
So from this new perspective, I can see the inferiority, the fantasy of being saved, the deep longing, the sadness, and the desire to be famous.
It’s all there. Except now I know something I didn’t when I was ten.
I know that I cannot be ‘saved’ by anyone.
That if I were to win an Oscar and become famous it would buy me 24 hrs of self-worth and then I’d be back to my baseline.
That fame is not the answer anymore.
That I actually love my life and do not need to be anyone else other than myself. This is enough. And that Jennifer Lawrence, Jamie Lynn Spears, and Gabriella Montez (from high school musical) are all human beings too. They have insecurities, they have bad days, good days, they go to the toilet — but fame is alluring. It creates a very convincing sense of increased value.
So I finished the books and I have one film left. I chatted to my friend and I’m telling him everything that’s come up and how it’s been difficult but so enlightening to meet this part of me in this way after all these years. He related deeply to what I was saying.
He raised a question:
Perhaps there’s something innately lonely about being human?
About being in this physical body and away from home. This stirred something deep within. And I felt an acceptance.
He wished me well as I went to watch the last film.
The Release of Trauma
I felt a little nervous but I was ready to lean into this. To hold this teenage boy’s hand and spend some time with him.
I dimmed the lights, grabbed my blanket, and hit play. 2 hours later the film finished and I felt something stirring within me. And before I know it I’m uncontrollably weeping. A weep that felt like a release. The catharsis was overwhelming. I placed a hand on my heart and permitted myself to express all that had been unexpressed within me.
And this boy was weeping for the mum he felt he lost. For the severed emotional connection he experienced.
And damn, it was beautiful.
But after allowing myself to grieve the pain of disconnection. My mother wound. This part of me is starting to step into the reality of where I am now. A place where there is love, where there is worthiness within me, and where I do feel valuable. Just as valuable as anyone else.
I’m sorry but it’s true:
The person I was looking for this entire time was me.
And as I write this I look forward to continuing to bridge the gap between myself and my mum. A gap I know is no one’s fault, one that has been passed down from previous generations, and a gap that is slowly but surely reducing in size.
And now that I’ve grieved, that I’ve acknowledged it exists and have touched the pain of this, I feel a deep sense of hope that my mum and I can meet in the middle and heal together.
For despite not being able to feel my mother's love as a child, I know it’s there.
I know we love each other.
Hey!
I’m a therapist-coach, public speaker for M-Path & mentor for boys + men.
I write frequently about Mental Health and Masculinity 💗
PS. If you’re interested in working together my website is here
Sending you good vibes 🙏