My tween and I have a thing for horror movies, so I was stoked when she asked if we could watch Carrie during our next mom-daughter night. While the ’70s cinematic techniques had us dying from laughter, the best (and TBH, kind of hardest) part was uncovering the film’s poignant themes together.
Within the first scene, my daughter was already saying things like, Carrie didn’t know what a period is? And, OMG, those girls are so mean in response to watching Carrie be savagely teased by a group of girls as blood trickled down her legs in the locker room showers.
It wasn’t until Carrie’s overly protective and pious mother was introduced that my daughter began to understand why Carrie was so naive and timid. Still, she was surprised that Carrie’s mother hadn’t prepped her for her first period — something my daughter and I had discussed way in advance of hers. We’d also had plenty of talks about bullying.
What was harder for me to explain was the mother’s trauma and mental instability and how it had manifested into abusive and controlling behavior that she directed at Carrie.
But before the film revealed exactly why Carrie’s mother had developed these behaviors, we got a peek into the love life of one of the girls who had been viciously going after Carrie. And it quickly became clear that Carrie wasn’t the only character in an abusive relationship.
In fact, the female antagonist portrays textbook Stockholm syndrome characteristics — laughing off and even attempting to please her boyfriend in response to his verbally and physically abusive behaviors. As much as I wanted to pause the movie and have an entire discussion on the topic of abusive relationships (which wouldn’t be our first), I just looked over at my daughter and waited. To say I was relieved that her response to that unfolding situation was returning a knowing look and saying, “Bruh, NO, I would be gone,” is an understatement.
When we finally got to the scene where Carrie’s mother reveals her trauma (alluding to rape) to her daughter, we watched in silence. Talking about intergenerational trauma with my daughter was new territory for me. So, we ended up reflecting on how parents often try to hide their pasts and problems from their children, and also how parents are just people trying to work through their own emotions… and they don’t always get it right.
Because the mother’s blunt confession stuck with me, I checked in with an expert a few days later, curious to find out if it’s ever OK — or even beneficial — for parents to divulge their trauma to their children.
“I believe if a parent has done their work to heal from the trauma […], it is helpful to share their experience with their child. They can speak from a position of personal experience, what they’ve learned, where their power was that they didn’t realize, and what they have learned. This wisdom is priceless for a daughter; additionally, it helps break the power of an unspoken pattern within my family,” says mother-daughter therapist Hilary Mae.
Still, Mae advises that parents wait until their children are at least 15 years old before revealing their traumatic experiences. Not only are older children generally more emotionally equipped to absorb and interpret the information, but Mae says it’s around this age that the message can also be the most impactful.
At the end of the day, whether or not to share these experiences is a decision that only a parent can make, but taking the time to consider what’s at stake is a solid place to start.
