Growing up with one parent, and that parent being male, doesn’t prepare you for being a mom. My experiences growing up with just a Dad in comparison to my best friend then, who had a mother and father was totally different. On top of that, having a much older parent, who was single, and old school, molded the type of child I was.
People told me how mature I was, how easily I thought of things- so carefully. How elaborated my thought process was, for someone who wasn’t even in high school. Well, that comes with experience right?
I grew up with my extended family members, no siblings, but I had cousins. I was the baby in the household, so being surrounded by much older individuals, contributed to my development as a person. I didn’t make friends easily. Teased by the people within my surrounding, for petty differences; in my height, my family lifestyle, and the questioning identity of who I truly was. The biggest thing for me as a child was being uncertain of who I was; not knowing where to place myself within the life I was granted. I was never certain about where I belonged, even in the family I was “blessed” to be placed in.
“God gives us relatives; thank God we can choose our friends”
I spent years as a child, yearning for the meaning of family. What it means to belong. What it means to love someone, and be loved in return. I spent nights, thinking about what it feels like to be someone’s. What it feels like to be claimed by someone. When you’re adopted, you don’t have roots with the people you end up with. You don’t have foundations, that have been rooted from the day you were born. While it isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because everything can be rebuilt, or built throughout your life, it was something I wanted to be able to feel.
I guess you can say, I like to be in tuned with myself. When you have no tangible assurance of where you come from, your experiences are doubtful and questionable. You want to be able to trace back the way you are; how you think, why you do, what you do. It isn’t all genetic backgrounds, but it does contribute to your self-understanding.
Now that I am a Mother, I see how much ‘genetics’ identifies you, as a child. I look at my children, and they do certain things subconsciously that mimic J and I. It shows me how much of me, there is, in them. Sometimes, I envy that. I envy my children, for being able to categorize themselves between J and I. I envy that they’re from two people, who claims them in everyway, in everything. I envy that they are loved beyond anything else in this world. I envy that someone is keeping track of who they are, and what they will be one day. I envy that one day, they’ll have their memories replayed for them through moments in photographs and videos. I envy that they have two people who can tell them who they were, before they knew.
Perhaps, my envy is what holds me back.
I nee a snack.. I’ll be back.
“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” -Oscar Wilde