It’s a strange feeling. Everything went so fast. One minute I was feeling trapped by all the responsibility, another minute I was cursing the dramas, now I’m 500 miles away from being able to help. My role as mother has become secondary to being an individual again. As parents we sacrifice all of ourselves in order to pay every last ounce of attention to our child/ren. Even when we’re out getting pissed with friends, or doing what we love doing, our kid/s are there and a huge part of us is always on call.

When they go all independent on your ass though, you have nowhere to direct all the love, attention and care. You have forgotten completely the individual you were before parenthood. You have taken on some inner charge that you cannot simply put back down. You carry around the delicate cup of your child’s soul despite the fact that they are living free from you. All you can do is whisper silent prayers into the space where your frantic parenting activity used to be. You cannot simply step back into your own inner child. You are mourning yourself, the lost you, the sacrificed version given up for motherhood and when your child leaves home, you also mourn for the mother you became, for she is now also mostly becoming void and irrelevant.

I feel like I should start the menopause. I have served my purpose completely. Multiplied my gene-pool, kept it alive into adulthood and helped equip it with a lust for life. I no longer need the potential of a working womb. I want to be barren. When your child/ren leave home and step into the vast wilds of the planet to fend for themselves, it wrenches your guts. You feel panic again, the anxiety of not being in control, not being there to soothe their brow, dry their tears or scream at them for doing the stupid thing. It distraughts you to know that from now on, the mistakes your kid makes are all their own and not the fault of others.. that thought is terrifying! The cruelty of that particular learning curve! You should be there to help them through it, but you’re only a voice on the end of a phone… annoying them.

Fuck. It’s hard!

 

Advertisements