I grew up in Jackson, Mississippi, really in suburbia, so my mother was in community theatre plays.
I just cleared the slate and thought of her as a mother and went from there.
My mother thinks I could have even run a larger company.
I told my mother at about the seventh year of therapy that I had been abused sexually by my father, and she hung up the phone on me.
And for anyone who ever thought that Ellen and I broke it off because of sexuality, you couldn't be more mistaken. And for anyone who thought my mother's prayers had anything to do with me marrying a man, forget it.
To have gone through so much work to heal myself and have my mother not acknowledge in any way that she was sorry for what had happened to me, broke my heart.
I don't remember my mother ever playing with me. And she was a perfectly good mother. But she had to do the laundry and clean the house and do the grocery shopping.
My mother-in-law was with me during all four of my births and when she was sitting next to me holding my hand during the cesareans, well, I craved that.
I suppose you could say my father's world was Thomas Hardy and my mother's D.H. Lawrence.
My mother loved the Bible.
My mother wanted very much to play tennis; she wanted, most of all, to be a singer and play the piano.
I remember my mother finding mud somehow and putting it on the sting.
My mother raised me in the church. I was not allowed to stay home on Sunday; there was no option. I sang in the choir all the way up until I went to college.
When a woman gives birth to a child, the child needs to be able to digest the mother's milk; but when this child is old enough to begin to eat other foods, there is some switching off of this ability to consume milk.
You make sacrifices to become a mother, but you really find yourself and your soul.