Home for Me：A Self-Narrative of Searching forAutonomy

• Main Authors: : Mei-Ling Hsia, 夏美玲
• Other Authors: Cheng-Pin Lai
• Format: Others
• Language: zh-TW
• Published: 2014
• Online Access: http://ndltd.ncl.edu.tw/handle/kz3yma

碩士 === 樹德科技大學 === 兒童與家庭服務系 === 102 === I never reasoned that my mother was important even if I was almost forty years old when mother passed away. At that time, mother was as a portion torn off me and subsequently I lived like a zombie with wounds. One afternoon, four years after my mother passed away, I suddenly felt heartbroken and extremely wanted to cry when my colleagues were talking about mothers. It was that year that I attended a learning group for life education and perhaps which was the cause that made me feel the existence of the wound that my mother was not still alive. And then I thought such a wound healed. But oppositely it was torn again in self-narration class in 2010 when I studied in graduate school for master degree. At the age of almost fifty, I reviewed my life comprehensively: What kind of family had shaped such a mother-daughter relationship? Why had my life been for my mother only? From the first day after my son was born, I always ridiculously regarded that I would need to depart from my son after he grew up. And I thought that taking care was love and that I did not have the ability to love. The contradiction between “would like to love” and “cannot love” was explored through the learning process in self-narration class during the graduate school life for four years. Consequently, I found that there in my inner self lived a child, who refused to grow up and still waited to be loved by mother. Additionally, I observed that I did my best to take care of this family for my son owing to being afraid of losing him, which resulted that we could not be close to each other. How bitter it was during the pursuit in my life! The sense of sadness appeared last year frequently, which I disliked. All the way, I always avoided to set up emotion links with others, but finally found that I was so far away from myself. Through self-narration, I talked about my life story from my point of view repeatedly, which was like an onion that made my eyes water; however, I was more close to myself. Life begins from the moment of fertilization; nevertheless, I never really understood what life was until I was almost fifty years old. Subsequently, I observed that life education was found everywhere and then I began to talk to my life.