Dr. Sarah Gundle, a psychologist in private practice and assistant professor at the Icahn School of Medicine in New York City, is currently working on a book about breakups. The views expressed here are her own. Read more opinion on CNN.
What is our fascination with stories of daughters who have been abused by their mothers? Why are we so consumed by the intricate details of a troubled mother-daughter relationship?
Sarah Gundle
Dr. Sarah Gundle poses thought-provoking questions about the public's captivation with the story of Gypsy Rose Blanchard, who was released on parole after serving eight and a half years for her involvement in her mother's murder. Blanchard's story has been featured in the Lifetime docuseries "The Prison Confessions of Gypsy Rose Blanchard," and in a recent interview with CNN, she expressed that going to prison provided her with the opportunity to gain independence.
Blanchard's experience in prison as a place of self-discovery may be surprising to many, but not to her, as she had been falsely presented as a cancer patient by her mother for years. This deception ultimately led to Gypsy Rose seeking retribution by persuading her boyfriend to kill her mother. It was later revealed that her mother suffered from "factitious disorder imposed on another," previously known as Munchausen-by-proxy, a rare condition in which a caregiver, typically a mother, fabricates or induces symptoms in a child to make it appear as though they are ill.
Blanchard's case, and the intense interest in every detail, evokes memories of former child actress and Nickelodeon star Jennette McCurdy. Her troubled relationship with her mother has also drawn media attention. McCurdy bravely shared her story in her 2022 bestseller, "I'm Glad My Mother Died," detailing how her mother Debra, a narcissist, pushed her into acting as a child and then incessantly monitored her calorie intake, leading to malnutrition, severe eating disorders, and alcoholism.
MAX/"Mommy Dead & Dearest"
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Gypsy Rose Blanchard Breaks Her Silence, Declares Her Freedom
The fascination with the "Mommie Dearest" genre persists as these cases continue to captivate and entertain many. Social media perpetuates an unattainable standard of maternal perfection, further reinforcing the monstrous portrayal of these women in our minds.
The actions of Dee Dee Blanchard and Debra McCurdy were undeniably heinous, bordering on evil. As a psychologist, I am compelled to consider whether labeling them as "wicked mothers" and fixating on their stories may say more about us than it does about them. Instead of focusing solely on their actions or their children's lives, we should use these stories as an opportunity to reflect on ourselves and our own relationships.
As we avidly follow these stories, we should also question the similarities we may share with Blanchard and McCurdy, even if we are reluctant to acknowledge them. Insisting that we would never behave like them may prevent us from recognizing the minor parallels between their stories and our own lives. It's not because we act like them, but rather because many mothers, like them, silently suffer, unable or unwilling to seek help or speak out.
The media barely acknowledges that both Blanchard and McCurdy were struggling with mental illness, yet neither received treatment. McCurdy revealed about her mother: "Any time that my grandfather or my father tried to encourage her to get help, pleaded with her to get help…she just refused to do it. She refused to acknowledge that she had any issues." Gypsy also mentioned in an interview about her mom: "Maybe it was like an addict with an impulse, and that it was not consciously malicious."
A father shot from behind with his newborn baby over his shoulder facing the camera
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Opinion: It's important to recognize that men can also experience postpartum depression. This issue needs to be brought into the conversation more openly.
In my experience, many mothers struggle with their own anxiety and fear of not meeting expectations, but these issues are often kept to themselves. "I wouldn't dare share this with anyone else," mothers in my practice frequently express. Then they confess to longing for a break from parenting, feeling relieved to return to work after maternity leave, or needing to find moments alone in the bathroom to avoid snapping at their children. Oftentimes, they can't bear to make eye contact while revealing these thoughts. "I know this makes me a bad mom," they admit.
The images portrayed in advertising and the media often depict parenthood, especially motherhood, as a state of constant bliss, a never-ending flow of unconditional love and joy. When I experienced postpartum depression, it took months for me to recognize and address my feelings due to this ingrained belief. It is common for parents to struggle with sharing their fears and doubts about maternal failure or inadequacy. I aim to normalize these feelings, as discussing and acknowledging maternal ambivalence can actually make us better parents, rather than worse.
"Shouldn't we prioritize our children's needs above everything else?" is a question I often hear. While I usually hesitate to give decisive answers to patient inquiries, this is one that I respond to unequivocally. "No, that's not correct," I assert.
Best supporting actress in a series, miniseries or television film: Patricia Clarkson, "Sharp Objects"
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I am hopeful that the motherhood spectrum will become as popular as the sober curious movement. Loving motherhood is a definite yes for me, but it often comes with shadows of grief and shame. It took me a long time to be open about my postpartum depression and the five miscarriages before it. I wonder how my experience as a mother would have been different without a good therapist, trustworthy friends, and a non-judgmental partner to support me through the complicated feelings and losses.
Psychiatrist Carl Jung once stated that failing to acknowledge our shadow results in denying a part of our personality. Suppressing qualities we dislike only makes us more unaware of ourselves, and denying and repressing aspects of our personalities only leads to a lack of psychological completeness. This often includes denying or repressing elements of ourselves that are considered negative or immoral by society, or that are disapproved of by our family and peers. However, doing so comes at the expense of our mental well-being and makes us more susceptible to negative consequences.
Living in a society that often judges and stigmatizes mothers who struggle, don't immediately bond with their children, or find it difficult to navigate parenthood can make us feel like we're failing as moms when we're faced with overwhelming emotions. However, it's important to remember that most of us are doing our best in a challenging role, often with limited support. While it may be tempting to view individuals like Dee Dee Blanchard and Debra McCurdy as completely different from ourselves, it could be more beneficial to try to understand their experiences. We may wish to distance ourselves from them, but doing so could cause us to miss out on valuable insights.
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Connect with us on Twitter and Facebook. It's hard to say whether Debra would have passed on such a sexist view to her daughter if she hadn't internalized it herself. And perhaps Dee Dee Blanchard could have been helped if someone had more persistently acknowledged and addressed her mental health issues.
These societal failures do not absolve either of these mothers from responsibility. The trauma their daughters endured was horrifying and unforgivable. Their stories should prompt us to reflect on whether our own journeys in parenthood are burdened by unacknowledged shame that we may be passing on to our children. Perhaps we should consider the words of Gypsy Rose Blanchard, who found forgiveness by trying to understand her mother's perspective, acknowledging that she was not an evil or monstrous person, but simply someone who was unwell.