Daughter cuts off mom who criticizes appearance

Dear Carolyn: I’m the mom of an adult daughter who has two elementary-age kids. For a few years, it seemed like my daughter was “letting herself go.” She gained about 40 pounds and no longer took much care with her clothing. She “retired” from her job that had been very highpaying but also very demanding, to stay home with her kids.

I made the mistake of making some comments about her appearance. Since then, she will no longer appear on screen when I Zoom with my grandkids — she will only speak off screen — and she only visits about once a year. What can I do at this point? Did I really screw up that bad?

Anonymous

Answer: Apparently so, right? There’s no objective standard here. Your daughter parcels out her attention based on what she thinks, not what you or I or anyone else thinks. So there’s that.

There’s also the problem of what you said to her, which was, in my objectively non-objective opinion, awful. The changes you describe in your daughter add up to the nonverbal announcement, “Mom, I’m struggling here.” And your response was? “I’ll say. You look like [crap].” At what is commonly a time of peak female self-image fragility. So there’s that.

Given the absence, again, of an objective standard, your daughter could have responded in a range of ways — anything from “Ya right thanks Mommy!” to estrangement. Though she still seems to trust you with the kids, her remaining so far out of your reach is near the extreme end of that range, suggesting this wasn’t the first time you so judgmentally misspoke.

So the first step in making amends with your daughter is a reckoning with yourself. Have you done this before — have you missed her inner struggles because you couldn’t get past the surface? Have you hurt her when she needed help? Have you done it a lot, a little, just this once?

If it’s the former, then claiming you simply misspoke this one itty bitty time is too little, which she will also recognize as years too late. It might even make matters worse.

Apologizing to your daughter is still the second step, regardless — but since its quality will directly reflect the quality of your introspection, save it for when you’re ready to assume the full scope of the responsibility for whatever you did wrong. Do so even if you believe she has overreacted, because it’s not eitheror; your mistake can be a 90 and she can mistakenly react as if it was 100, and you still need to apologize for the full 90. Maybe even 100 as a hedge against undercounting. Because your job right now isn’t to be accurate, it’s to be self-aware, humble, and sorry for real.

So, when you’re ready to hold yourself to account:

“I miss you. And I realize that’s my fault. I made critical comments when what you needed was my support. I am so sorry I did that to you.”

One of the more effective elements of a sincere apology is an absence — of whatever’s in it for you. You want to see more of your daughter, yes, and you want her to forgive you — but asking for these things says, in so many words, “Here — here’s your darn apology, is that good enough? Can I get what I want now?” So leave your wishes out.

She may not come around no matter how thoroughly you own your mistake(s) — all together now, no objective standards — but you boost your chances by getting it right. And by rethinking your values on looks. And by assuming the work and expense of those visits; once a year with two young kids might be all she can face.

Hi Carolyn: My friend “Sal” is all about making the world a better place, but responds to social media posts with teachy and preachy comments.

One friend posted vacation photos, and Sal commented, “I hope that porpoise is not in captivity.” Another friend posted photos of her backyard chickens and Sal commented that laying hens are bred in a way that makes them suffer.

One old friend blocked her and Sal is shocked and hurt. She seeks commiseration but doesn’t realize how off-putting her comments can be. Is there anything I could tell her to make her aware of how she comes across, but gently?

Sal’s friend

Answer: Just tell her the truth — the way you wish she would: with some tact and socio-spatial awareness. “I think everyone understands you mean well and are passionate about doing the right thing. But people also get tired of being corrected, and sometimes just want to talk about their pet chickens without getting called out for chicken abuse.”

Reminder, Sal may not share your definition of “gently.” She controls what she finds offensive. Plus, you have ample evidence her room-reading sensors aren’t great.

However, your friendship plus her confiding/commiseration-seeking constitute a valid invitation to tell her what you think. I hope she’s as receptive to your constructive criticism as she assumes everyone is to hers. Email Carolyn at tellmewashpost.com, follow her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/carolyn.hax or chat with her online at 9 a.m. Pacific time each Friday at www.washingtonpost.com. © 2016 Washington Post Writers Group