Craving mum's approval doesn't end at childhood

Dakota Johnson and her mother Melanie Griffith hit the headlines last week after they had starring roles in the classic Mother/ Daughter Public Spat Show.

Watching two bonafide celebrities engage in a silent, and then not-so-silent, tug of war during what should have been a special moment, reminded me of a particular instance with my own mother. It was one I had attempted to bury, but which came to the fore again when I was forced to watch Melanie’s bizarre face attempt to express pride at her daughter’s recent controversial film role.

If Dakota and Melanie’s stand-off highlighted anything, it was the fact that they are mum and daughter first, and celebrities second. I know, hardly an earth-shattering revelation, but in a society where we have a tendancy to elevate celebrities to the realm of the divine, it's somewhat startling to know they face the same awkward dynamics and familial hardships as the rest of us.

Watching Dakota silently urge her mother to publicly support her choice of film role was, in my opinion, painful beyond belief. Fair enough, Melanie doesn’t want to see her ‘little girl' - as the overzealous reporter insisted on calling Dakota - tied up and whipped for some billionaire’s pleasure, but did she have to make her discomfort so blatantly clear?

Couldn’t she have just sucked it up, turned on the charm and told the reporter that if she hadn’t had to attend these damn awards, she’d be at home with her feet up, watching her daughter’s prowess as a submissive? Couldn’t she have at least pretended to support her choice? Couldn't she have acted in that one moment?

The awkward exchange brought memories of the morning I delivered Ella roaring back to me. My mum, who gave birth to three children and raised us without the help of a partner, isn’t one for over-sentimentality. Actually forget ‘over-sentimentality'; she isn’t one for sentimentality at all.

So I shouldn’t have expected much praise after I gave birth, but still, that didn’t mean I didn’t crave it. It would have been nice to get a ‘well done’ or an ‘I’m proud of you’ after I pushed a mewling 7lb child into the world, but no dice. My mum doles out compliments like she might one day be charged for them, but I thought she might at least take the plunge on the day her daughter became a mother.

So when the nurse complimented me and paused in order for my mother to join in, the silence was deafening. Oh, she cooed over Ella alright, but I didn't get a look-in.

It’s just not Mum’s style, I get it.

But there are times where you change your style to suit the situation. The red carpet of the Oscars is one of them and the maternity ward of a hospital is another.

Yes, as daughters we may get stroppy and abrasive, but sometimes it might be because we’re craving our mother's approval or attention and we’re just too proud to say so.

It’ll do me god to remember that as Ella gets older.