“If you don’t bear down hard, I’d have to cut you open”, said the doctor.
So I told myself, “Jax, you‘ve done quite a few wrong things in your life, you need to do this one right!”. The internal monologue worked and with a massive push, out came an 8.5 lb boy.
I walked out of the lying-in clinic 12 hours after, carrying an infant whose size was that of a month-old on a Summer day in 2004.
Quite A Dramatic Narrative
The relationship with my son’s father (the entire 18 months of it) was fatal-attraction level stressful. My family, having persuaded me to proceed with my pregnancy, only witnessed his controlling behavior when I was too far along. Believing that one should marry for the right reasons and that getting unexpectedly pregnant isn’t one of them, my Mom told me, “You can’t continue with this relationship. It will kill your spirit. He will keep you caged. End it.” My family echoed what I’ve always known I would do. I removed this man from my life.
Circus Act
Imagine a juggler on a uni-cycle. He is juggling 3 balls made of glass whilst maintaining balance.
The first, second and third ball represented my volatile emotions; fragile physical state; and time-intensive studies, respectively. The balance was my sanity.
Enduring a perfect storm of suffering such as that built a huge part of my character (I’d say it’s but one of many that was to come and that I will share in my succeeding posts).
Pseudo-Bohemian Parenting Style
For the first seven years of his life, I deliberately avoided any romantic/serious relationships. My little ram (he’s an Aries) needed my full attention considering I was the only parent he had. I’m not going to lie. It’s tough being a single mother. There were many, many instances when I would cry out of helplessness and frustration to the point that in my mind, I regretted having him. I’d be racked with guilt even thinking of such a thing; I’d often find myself in a loop of self-defeating thoughts; and I had no clue what I was doing. I even wondered how people can choose to have more than one child….
I tried applying my parents’ style (Dear reader, if you were ever born in or around 1977–1983, you know what I’m talking about). It didn’t work much. So I stepped back and observed this little monkey…
I ended up developing my own parenting style. In a nutshell, it is outlined in a letter I sent him when he turned 13:
“I’ve known since you were little that you march to your own drum beat. You are different and that is your strength. Unique is never boring. That will be your advantage when you get older.
Don’t lose that.
You can do anything as long as you set your heart and mind on it.
It’s okay to feel afraid sometimes. Use is to be better at that which you fear.
Don’t hold yourself back.
I will not control you. I will support you as long as whatever you want to do gives you joy.
Your grades will never be a measure of your value. Try to learn as much as you can from school.
The real life lessons are learnt outside of it so be ready for that. I will equip you.
Do what you love. Be great at it. Let’s work on making money out of it eventually.
I love you.”
On Emotions
When I’m sad, I let him see it. I even cry in front of him and I do my best to explain to him why. I encourage him to do the same because suppressing emotions won’t protect him from it.
Though I’ve gotten better over the years, he may have heard me speak harshly towards him and others out of anger. I’m afraid it has affected him in some way and now that he is older, talking about it with him helps. I just hope he doesn’t develop an explosive temper like mine.
My expressive and affectionate family filled the absence of a father figure in his life. He only started asking about his biological father when he turned 11. I only told him good things of course.
On Dating
I make a conscious decision to never volunteer information about my son to whoever I’m seeing unless I am absolutely sure of my choice.
I’ve only introduced one man to my son. I only did so because I thought I would end up with him.
I don’t want to be dating one man after the other; introducing them all to my son; and he’d end up thinking “Mom changes her men as often as she changes clothes”. In order for him to have respect for women, I need to be his primary example of what a woman should be and how a woman should be treated.
He recently told me he had a crush at school. He said, “She’s smart, talented, beautiful and kind, like you.” In my head, I eye-rolled so hard I saw my own ass.
On Presence
I decided to live in the City for work intermittently after he turned 8 and permanently when he turned 12. I felt guilty to have spent so much time away from him that I thought I was neglecting him. My plan was to ease him into city life in preparation for Senior High School and in order for me to do that, I needed to be familiar with it before uprooting him from Laguna. We both agreed that he would move to the city when he turns 16.
Some would frown upon the idea that my son and I live separately (though we spend quality time on weekends). All I can say is that my son is as independent as I am. He chose to stay at his grandmother’s house and I will respect that. I was an adolescent once and I know that it is the stage of building self-sufficiency. A hovering (or worse, controlling) Mom-zilla will not help.
Sole Provider
For a time, I struggled with my career. Other women of my age group’s careers were moving up steadily and I felt stuck. But now that we’re all caught up position and income-wise, most of them would tell me that they focused too much on their careers that they ended up marrying late and having children late (some even have difficulty getting pregnant). I’m over here thinking, “Huh. By the time, my son graduates from College, I’ll only be 43 (but will still look 27 for sure).”, with a wide grin.
Think about it: I have no biological clock to chase; I can be picky with a life partner (marriage optional); I can pursue my career goals; and focus on being an entrepreneur that can help set a better future for generations to come. The prospect is exciting!
Judgement and the “Trophy Child”
Parents judge other parents all the time. Most of the parents who do this have personal issues that they project to other parents. The parent being judged shouldn’t hold space for the judgment. Instead, focus on raising a “quality person” who will utilize himself/herself and add value to the world.
So many parents aspire to have a“trophy child” as if the child is an investment, an extension or a reflection of them, and that somehow they can live vicariously through the child and this makes them better people. That is ok. Who am I to judge?
Personally, I just encourage my son to introspect. I tell him,
“Be the kind of son you’d want to have.
Be the kind of man you’d want your Mom (or your daughter) to be with.
Be the kind of person you’d be ok to be stuck with when there’s no one else.”
Observing a person you brought into this world coming to his own is a marvelous thing. I think the fact that I fear failing at motherhood makes me a better parent in a somewhat unconventional way by my own standards. Only time will tell…
