It Is Not My Fault
My Darling Child,
I love you. I love you more than I could ever express in words...or emoticons. 😘😍❤️ I see so much of me in you as every parent does of their own child. Sometimes I see the good but, if I am to be honest, most often the bad is what glares at me from your temperamental pubescent eyes.
Oh, I am well aware of my short comings, faults, and inconsistencies as a parent. I will have been aware of them a long time before you decide to point them out to me during an act of defiance or anger. Don't forget I am as new at being a parent of a child your age as you are at being a child your age. I am learning, trying, and growing at the same rate you are.
But I am far more educated than you at being your age. I was there already. I haven't forgotten what it's like. You see, each year on my birthday, instead of making a wish as I blew out my candles, I made myself a promise instead. I promised myself I would not forget what it was like to be the age I was that year. Each time I suffered an "injustice" from my parents or another authoritarian, each time a friend wronged me or a crush broke my heart I renewed my promise to myself to not forget exactly what it felt like. Why? So I could help you when I saw you experience the same thing.
In your short life I have already recalled my promise more times than you know. More times than I care to admit. I have advocated for you both overtly and silently through whispered prayers and closed-door conversations. I can do that. I can help you. But that is all I can do. I cannot make your choices for you.
I have watched you try to navigate this new stage of your life. You're not doing that bad of a job, really. Sometimes I have been pretty impressed with the maturity of your decisions. Sometimes I shake my head and wonder how many of them I could blame on your father's genes.
I have watched you end friendships on your own because of the poor influence you instinctively knew they were having on you. I have also seen you put forth twice as much effort to avoid an unpleasant situation than it would have taken just to deal with it head-on. I have witnessed you bravely standing for what is right then turn right around and try to hide truth to avoid trouble.
When you were small, you were asked if you excited for the Easter Bunny or Santa or the tooth fairy to come. Because you were sweet and because we taught you to be polite, you would quietly nod and smile rather than making that person feel uncomfortable for asking even though you never believed in any of them. Now that you've grown, you sometimes buy into the lie that kindness is mistaken for weakness. Kindness, my Dear, is strength, especially in the face of adversity. People who would have you believe differently are just lazy. Honey, don't be lazy.
While I was growing up I listened, a lot. I was sly, playing the part of the kid who never shut up so adults wouldn't realize I was hanging on their conversations, retaining almost every word being said. I was figuring out who I admired, who I wanted to be like, what was normal, how I should act, think, feel. One habit I formed from listening to some of these conversations was judging people's parenting based on how their older teenage or adult children turned out. Then I realized that is a filthy, disgusting habit. Don't ever do that. Picking your nose would be preferable--but don't do that either.
In my adulthood I have continued my sly behaviour of quietly observing everything everyone who I may eventually decide to admire does. You know what I've noticed? Two, three, four children all raised in the same home with identical values, beliefs, and rules turn out differently. Why? Choice.
You see, I can guide you. I can teach you. I could even try to force you to submit to my will. But even God doesn't do that to His children (and He totally could). You have a will. You have a choice.
Listen to me. Choose wisely. For every decision you make, for better or for worse, will be your own. Only you can be congratulated or blamed.
.......and possibly paternity.
I love you. I love you more than I could ever express in words...or emoticons. 😘😍❤️ I see so much of me in you as every parent does of their own child. Sometimes I see the good but, if I am to be honest, most often the bad is what glares at me from your temperamental pubescent eyes.
Oh, I am well aware of my short comings, faults, and inconsistencies as a parent. I will have been aware of them a long time before you decide to point them out to me during an act of defiance or anger. Don't forget I am as new at being a parent of a child your age as you are at being a child your age. I am learning, trying, and growing at the same rate you are.
But I am far more educated than you at being your age. I was there already. I haven't forgotten what it's like. You see, each year on my birthday, instead of making a wish as I blew out my candles, I made myself a promise instead. I promised myself I would not forget what it was like to be the age I was that year. Each time I suffered an "injustice" from my parents or another authoritarian, each time a friend wronged me or a crush broke my heart I renewed my promise to myself to not forget exactly what it felt like. Why? So I could help you when I saw you experience the same thing.
In your short life I have already recalled my promise more times than you know. More times than I care to admit. I have advocated for you both overtly and silently through whispered prayers and closed-door conversations. I can do that. I can help you. But that is all I can do. I cannot make your choices for you.
I have watched you try to navigate this new stage of your life. You're not doing that bad of a job, really. Sometimes I have been pretty impressed with the maturity of your decisions. Sometimes I shake my head and wonder how many of them I could blame on your father's genes.
I have watched you end friendships on your own because of the poor influence you instinctively knew they were having on you. I have also seen you put forth twice as much effort to avoid an unpleasant situation than it would have taken just to deal with it head-on. I have witnessed you bravely standing for what is right then turn right around and try to hide truth to avoid trouble.
When you were small, you were asked if you excited for the Easter Bunny or Santa or the tooth fairy to come. Because you were sweet and because we taught you to be polite, you would quietly nod and smile rather than making that person feel uncomfortable for asking even though you never believed in any of them. Now that you've grown, you sometimes buy into the lie that kindness is mistaken for weakness. Kindness, my Dear, is strength, especially in the face of adversity. People who would have you believe differently are just lazy. Honey, don't be lazy.
While I was growing up I listened, a lot. I was sly, playing the part of the kid who never shut up so adults wouldn't realize I was hanging on their conversations, retaining almost every word being said. I was figuring out who I admired, who I wanted to be like, what was normal, how I should act, think, feel. One habit I formed from listening to some of these conversations was judging people's parenting based on how their older teenage or adult children turned out. Then I realized that is a filthy, disgusting habit. Don't ever do that. Picking your nose would be preferable--but don't do that either.
In my adulthood I have continued my sly behaviour of quietly observing everything everyone who I may eventually decide to admire does. You know what I've noticed? Two, three, four children all raised in the same home with identical values, beliefs, and rules turn out differently. Why? Choice.
You see, I can guide you. I can teach you. I could even try to force you to submit to my will. But even God doesn't do that to His children (and He totally could). You have a will. You have a choice.
Listen to me. Choose wisely. For every decision you make, for better or for worse, will be your own. Only you can be congratulated or blamed.
.......and possibly paternity.
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