Being a Mom
For a long time, being a Mom was the ultimate identity I had. I teach this stuff for college students so I think about identity a lot. What it is...always goes to a key concept: "am I who I say I am, or who I appear to be to others".
Mom is the one you call when things are hard. How many of us remember the voice screaming, "MA!"? Or the crying and running to where you are? There are so many ways our Momness takes front and center.
Mom is also the one you blame when you have troubles, whether those troubles happen before you become an adult or in your young adulthood. I often blamed both my parents for not encouraging me to play more sports. Yes, I played recreation volleyball and basketball - that was what we had - no Title 9 until I was in high school. But Mom told me not to run because of my big boobs - no such thing as a sports bra in those days, either. Given my self-consciousness about those boobs, I paid attention to what she said.
I didn't think to put blame on my parents for much, truthfully. I would have liked them to be pushier with Guidance in high school when I had problems with grades, but I know now that just would not have happened. I was expected to fight my own battles, and be responsible for my life pretty early on. There were other issues that arose, I'm sure.
I also disappointed them greatly at one point. I was the first (and only one) in my family of birth to go to college. I quit UCONN after a year and went to work. I found out years later how very disappointed they were with that decision. They never ever shared that with me, but told their friends, one of whom told me a few years ago. As you all know, I did eventually finish through my MS degree. I know how proud Mom and Dad were about that and of me.
My parents gave me away at our wedding. Many ask me, still, about that. My parents were not perfect, were dealing with pressures and questions from friends and families about their eldest "who was marrying that boy". But they loved me, a lot. They knew this was what I wanted, they knew I was serious. They knew I had already thought of the challenges present and the issues to be dealt with in the future. My Dad had way more challenges to his own way of thinking about this than my Mom did. She "got" it first, she always did. Mom was way more forward thinking about life, about her children. Dad was always a few steps behind, and still is. Dad could never see the forest for the trees. He remains racially insensitive, misogynistic and a Luddite. I give him credit, though, for some changes, some movement. I continue to challenge him to change, though. Old doesn't mean dead.
Thankfully, all of our kids also have degrees, putting us all into another realm regarding education. Knowing how much education gets you, personally and economically, they accomplished much.
Now, only our youngest lives with us. As she finishes her BS, she will be moving on at some point this year. My Momness will again change.
I know my children who are now adults blame me for many things because they have told me this. We didn't raise them to be seen and not heard, so this didn't surprise me when it first became apparent.
What has surprised me is the lack of forgiveness and the complete change in our relationships because of what I did wrong as a Mom and what they see as unforgivable.
I still have discussions with the youngest - she does, after all, live here in our house. She has made some good points in our discussions. As the youngest, she sat back and viewed what was happening as we raised our children. Her perspective is definitely different, as all of our children's perspectives are.
I am thankful that I was able to forgive my parents for their mistakes along the way. They were not aware of them at the time - this I know. They told me of their challenges over time, and the reasons we were all treated differently. Mom and Dad also let me know what they would have done differently, knowing what they learned over the years. That was my own tipping point toward forgiveness.
I truly miss my Mom, and wish I could talk to her about this, wish she had some funky funny wisdom to share with me, to tell me that this will pass, that my identity is not entirely wrapped in the same package with our children.
No one raises their children in exactly the same manner, for the very reason that teachers should not teach all children in exactly the same manner. We are, after all, individuals.
As individuals, we have to be viewed as fallible, as imperfect, as lovable, as valuable. My Momness is at risk, I feel, although I go back to what I said in the beginning. I AM a Mom, I have children. I see myself as the mother of them all, even unforgiven.
Mom is the one you call when things are hard. How many of us remember the voice screaming, "MA!"? Or the crying and running to where you are? There are so many ways our Momness takes front and center.
Mom is also the one you blame when you have troubles, whether those troubles happen before you become an adult or in your young adulthood. I often blamed both my parents for not encouraging me to play more sports. Yes, I played recreation volleyball and basketball - that was what we had - no Title 9 until I was in high school. But Mom told me not to run because of my big boobs - no such thing as a sports bra in those days, either. Given my self-consciousness about those boobs, I paid attention to what she said.
I didn't think to put blame on my parents for much, truthfully. I would have liked them to be pushier with Guidance in high school when I had problems with grades, but I know now that just would not have happened. I was expected to fight my own battles, and be responsible for my life pretty early on. There were other issues that arose, I'm sure.
I also disappointed them greatly at one point. I was the first (and only one) in my family of birth to go to college. I quit UCONN after a year and went to work. I found out years later how very disappointed they were with that decision. They never ever shared that with me, but told their friends, one of whom told me a few years ago. As you all know, I did eventually finish through my MS degree. I know how proud Mom and Dad were about that and of me.
My parents gave me away at our wedding. Many ask me, still, about that. My parents were not perfect, were dealing with pressures and questions from friends and families about their eldest "who was marrying that boy". But they loved me, a lot. They knew this was what I wanted, they knew I was serious. They knew I had already thought of the challenges present and the issues to be dealt with in the future. My Dad had way more challenges to his own way of thinking about this than my Mom did. She "got" it first, she always did. Mom was way more forward thinking about life, about her children. Dad was always a few steps behind, and still is. Dad could never see the forest for the trees. He remains racially insensitive, misogynistic and a Luddite. I give him credit, though, for some changes, some movement. I continue to challenge him to change, though. Old doesn't mean dead.
Thankfully, all of our kids also have degrees, putting us all into another realm regarding education. Knowing how much education gets you, personally and economically, they accomplished much.
Now, only our youngest lives with us. As she finishes her BS, she will be moving on at some point this year. My Momness will again change.
I know my children who are now adults blame me for many things because they have told me this. We didn't raise them to be seen and not heard, so this didn't surprise me when it first became apparent.
What has surprised me is the lack of forgiveness and the complete change in our relationships because of what I did wrong as a Mom and what they see as unforgivable.
I still have discussions with the youngest - she does, after all, live here in our house. She has made some good points in our discussions. As the youngest, she sat back and viewed what was happening as we raised our children. Her perspective is definitely different, as all of our children's perspectives are.
I am thankful that I was able to forgive my parents for their mistakes along the way. They were not aware of them at the time - this I know. They told me of their challenges over time, and the reasons we were all treated differently. Mom and Dad also let me know what they would have done differently, knowing what they learned over the years. That was my own tipping point toward forgiveness.
I truly miss my Mom, and wish I could talk to her about this, wish she had some funky funny wisdom to share with me, to tell me that this will pass, that my identity is not entirely wrapped in the same package with our children.
No one raises their children in exactly the same manner, for the very reason that teachers should not teach all children in exactly the same manner. We are, after all, individuals.
As individuals, we have to be viewed as fallible, as imperfect, as lovable, as valuable. My Momness is at risk, I feel, although I go back to what I said in the beginning. I AM a Mom, I have children. I see myself as the mother of them all, even unforgiven.
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