Love Me, Feed Me, Set Me Free

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I am not a parent just yet, but I have been a daughter all my life. I am twenty five. And all this time, there were so many things that my parents did differently. I think I turned out okay though, I have never really been the center of a neighborhood disaster. Which is good right? Suffice it to say that although I do not have a regular source of income, I have never cheated anyone for money. I believe that my heart is generally good so maybe my parents did most things the right way.

When I found out that I was pregnant, there were a million thoughts that went through me. Diving was out for a year, perhaps two. No beer and wine for two years. I’d keep stock of breast milk in the freezer for two years. I have to force myself to eat vegetables. I’ll sing to her. I’ll teach her a lot of things, from opening and closing her hands to walking and talking back to me. I’d punish her for bad or dangerous things that she will do. I would walk with her.  I hoped to be able to talk to her all her life. I hoped to be the kind of mother that she would share her secrets with. I hoped to be the first person she would call when she’s in trouble for the rest of her life. I loved her then. I love her now. I wanted her to be my baby forever.

But babies don’t stay babies forever. They grow up. They leave you. Mine left before we could talk. She left before I could even see her. I was meant to let her go. She was meant to leave me. And such is life. I was a parent for but one moment in this eternity of torment because she was gone. I think I experienced a fast-forwarded parenthood. But letting go hurt just as much, maybe even more. Who wants to compare?

I cannot imagine what it must be like for them when they sent me away for college. But I am grateful that my father decided it was the best thing to do. I learned to live alone. I gained a confidence that I never imagined I could have. He pushed me to jump and be free.

But while my father dreamed of us leading our own lives and finding ourselves in the wide world, my mother wanted to keep us. She’s convinced that she must be part of everything that happens to us. It seemed to me that she sought to control me. (like that mum in little britain: bitty!)  Asking for permission to go to a party is like going through the eye of a needle.  A dozen things need to be accomplished before she even decides to let you go. And when she finally does, you have to be home by nine in the evening. (the party hasn’t even started yet!) I quit asking for permission and always did as I pleased instead. The more she yelled, the less I listened.

Kids are not dumb. I am not dumb. I do not deserve to be yelled at. Screaming matches are not the answer. It never helped me. Whenever my parents started raising their voices or yelling at me, I yelled back even harder. I always wished that they would talk to me. I would’ve listened. I think my father knows that now. He hasn’t yelled at me in years. My mother is still completely clueless. I wish it weren’t so. But it’s impossible for me to teach my mother anything because she is convinced that she knows better all the time.

My friend drove his three year old kid to nursery school last June. He walked her to the classroom. Before she went in she turned to him and asked him to leave and just come back for her when class was done. How brave. How beautiful. He walked away with a lump in his throat. This was his third child and yet letting go seemed harder than ever.

I know that parents are aware in their heart of hearts that they must let go of their kids sometime. But the desire to keep them is simply overwhelming. And so they forget. They get clingy, they whine, they threaten, they cry. Sometimes they win. Sometimes they don’t.

I raised dogs and hamsters, now a red eared slider turtle. They are like babies to me. I have always felt an irrational fear of letting them go. I worried that something might happen to them. I worried that they would get hurt. But you know, you can’t not let anything happen to your baby. What life is that?

To learn to walk a baby must be let go of. You hold on to your heart and prepare yourself. She might fall and hurt herself yes, but if you never give her the chance to do that she will never walk. Holding on to her will only deprive her of the life she was meant to discover and live.

I am not a parent just yet but I have been a daughter all my life. I know that I discovered who I am when my father left me in that apartment in Manila. I am thankful that my father was brave enough to let me go. I am even more grateful that he kept himself from checking on me all the time. I hated feeling that he deserted me when I needed help and he refused to give me any, but it helped make me a stronger person. I hated the way he did not treat us equally well, but I’m eternally grateful because it taught me that life is never fair. I thank my mother for forcing me to become like her, because it fired up my desire to find out who I was instead of living someone else’s lie. I thank my mother, for accusing me of things I never did, because it reinforced my belief in being brutally honest at all times. I thank my mother, for endlessly trying to uncover my secrets, because it taught me the value of keeping my mouth shut and protecting truths shared between friends.

I will always be someone’s daughter. While there are things about my parents that I could never like, I am eternally grateful. If not for all the good and the painful things they put me through, I would not have learned so much. But I am not my parents. I can only be who I have always been. They will not always like me, but I will always be their daughter.

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Filed under Acceptance, Affection, Anger, Attachment, Daughter, Family, Family Ties, Father, Having a Baby, Mother, Mother and Daughter Relationship, Mothers, growing up, parenting, raising children