Here’s a truth: I cherish my mom. Here’s another truth: I fear becoming her.
That may sound harsh or ungrateful, especially considering the extraordinary mother she has been. After her divorce from my father when my brother and I were still very young, she took on the responsibility of raising us alone. She juggled three jobs and ensured we never knew hunger. She set boundaries yet was forgiving of our mistakes. She pushed us to achieve our best.
In doing all this, she sacrificed every aspect of her own life for my brother and me. She rarely went out, seldom pursued her own interests, and lost the chance to explore life beyond being a “single mom.” She gave us everything while neglecting her own foundation for a future with adult children.
Now that my brother and I are adults with children of our own, she finds joy in the stories and visits with her grandkids, which we try to arrange frequently. However, she fills her days with solitary activities and lacks meaningful friendships or hobbies. She seems content to wait for our calls or visits, but from where I stand, it appears profoundly lonely.
This reflection is like staring into a mirror showing me a future I dread. Recently, I separated from my children’s father, who is now completely out of the picture, leaving me to care for my two daughters alone. Their every need—financial and emotional—falls solely on my shoulders, echoing the life my mother lived at about my age.
I understand the immense effort it takes to raise children as a single parent. It demands everything, and I’m prepared to give it all for my daughters, just as my mother did for us. They deserve no less.
Yet, observing my mother’s current life fills me with fear of becoming trapped in the same cycle—of giving too much and losing myself. Despite her apparent happiness, I know I wouldn’t thrive in such a life. I need to build a foundation for my future—one that extends beyond my children’s upbringing and allows for my own dreams and friendships.
So, how can I give as much as she did without sacrificing my identity? How do I strike that delicate balance? I could wait for my turn to find myself in a decade, but I’ve never been patient.
The solution may be to abandon the quest for balance. Embracing the truth that retaining a part of “me” means not sacrificing everything could be key. Motherhood shouldn’t entail total self-denial. I can nurture my children while still pursuing my own interests and maintaining my identity.
Additionally, I must step back from the fear of mirroring my mother’s life and instead appreciate the joy she has found in her own. Perhaps she didn’t lose herself; maybe she made conscious choices that fulfilled both her and her children.
In this journey, I realize there’s much to learn from her decisions.
If you’re interested in exploring more about motherhood and the journey of self-discovery, check out this other blog post. For those considering their fertility paths, Make a Mom is a valuable resource. Also, for insights on pregnancy and home insemination, Healthline offers excellent guidance.
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