heavy weights & s o u l s i f t i n g
7:49 PMI’m in this weird space right now that’s new but also not new at all. It’s a little scary though that’s for sure, because it came about pretty fast and very unexpectedly... Or, as we all say in 2021, unprecedented. But really.
Until I was about, I don’t know? Maybe 22? 23? I didn’t want kids. I grew up in a large family and was often taking care of my younger brothers and sisters (whom I love dearly). We also did foster care for 10 years, so I’ve had a couple younger siblings around ever since I can remember. My older siblings are a decade or two older than me, so some of their kids often felt more like extended younger siblings than my niece or nephew.
I don’t know what exactly changed in my early 20s... I have a guess, but don’t know for sure. Regardless, I began wanting children and wanting them very badly. No one questioned the shift or why, myself included. Around 25, I finally began to ask myself that “why”. Because similarly to right now, it was such an intense and quick shift. Some answers I came up with were rather logic oriented. Simply put: I’m good with kids. Between my massive family, working with kids as a teen every summer, teaching dance to kiddos, and being a nanny- I didn’t really have any doubts about my abilities to take care of kids, connect with them and be a pretty good mom. Someone recently told me that I was confident about this and then went on to say that perhaps I was too confident. I disagree though I can see why it may sound arrogant. But if you reframe it to look more like a skill set that I’ve been exposed to and/or developing for almost 20 years, perhaps that offers a more accurate and helpful perspective. In the same way that an athlete or mechanic would be skilled if their family played basketball, coached basketball, etc... Or, if the parent ran a family business and they worked for that business in various roles for the majority of their life. It’s familiar, comfortable and something they’d be well versed in. My family’s “thing” is kids. So that has left me pretty comfortable, familiar, knowledgable and good with them.
I think a small part of me also wanted redemption. My birth mom had me when she was 15 and I was adopted at birth. I think part of me believed that if I had kids, I could do things differently and therefore bring about redemption. But who would be getting redeemed? Well… Myself. Because the kid wouldn’t need redemption, right? And the more I think about that… The more selfish that sounds. Like having a child, would be to serve me. And I’m not naïve. I know that having kids is the exact opposite of selfishness. In fact it’s selflessness to the point of extreme sacrifice. I know that is true parenting, especially for a mother. And I know that it is sacred and beautiful and rewarding. I fully believe that to be true. In fact, that was another one of my reasons for wanting to be a mama.
And yet...
I’m in this startling, unforeseen, but very familiar space of not being sure if I want kids now. Again, something flipped a switch. I know what. And I know why, at least partially. It’s tragic and ugly and devastating and seriously messed up.
Legend Small (age 1)
Tamir Rice (age 12)
Adam Toledo (age 13)
Ma’Khia Bryant (age 15)
I made the massive mistake of watching the video the captured the murder of Adam Toledo. It was graphic and it shattered me. Over the weekend, I couldn’t stop sobbing and once I finally did, I stood with this giant question mark draped across my shoulders like a duffel bag of rocks.
“Why would I intentionally bring a human into this world if it has the possibility of being murdered by the very people who are supposed to help protect the innocent?”
“Do I have the emotional capacity to deal with losing a child to murder?”
“What is the likelihood of me being even *more* anxious about their safety in addition to all the other risks that could compromise their safety?”
“Would it be worth it?”
Granted, there are some other factors involved as well. Some even more personal than this and some less heavy.
So I've been doing some processing and soul sifting... It’s certainly interesting to observe the way I went from being certain about not wanting children to suddenly really wanting them and now being skeptical. Perhaps the time spent wanting them was a trauma response. Perhaps it was a way I believed I could feel more whole. More complete. Perhaps I would. But I’m unconvinced that’s a good reason to enter into the very consuming and committed journey of motherhood. Perhaps it was also the logic aspect... I’m good with kids; kids are easy for me. Still, not a convincing reason. And perhaps it was to get back something I had lost. Maybe. That would make the most sense.
Since my family is all about kids, there is also this... Expectation and even subtle pressure that in order to fulfill my role most throughly as a member of the family and as a woman, I should get married and have kids. Someone in my extended family told me once that they often associate me with those who are 19 and 20, because I’m single and childless like them. And all of my other cousins around my age are at least married. Another family member pulled me aside and told me she wouldn’t judge me if I got IVF. So it’s not really my imagination or projected pressure, it’s an actual mentality and while those comments were pretty hurtful at the time, I also see them as a thermometer for what my family values. Perhaps that also played a role... Wanting kids in order for them to accept me more, rather, to feel like I belong in my family more (which sheds light on a deeper topic altogether). It’s interesting. I’m trying to observe these things and not assign too much meaning to the big emotions. I’m trying to simply be aware and take note. Collect the observations and examine them more closely. It’s a practice I’m trying to implement in other parts of my life as well. I was talking to someone about this recently and he challenged me (called me out, really) on something. Basically he asked if I pull back from people or get defensive when they express expectations for my life or opinions on how they perceive my life. Do I let them be different from me, even when it comes to their ideas of me and how my life looks to them, letting it roll? Or, do I create distance and walls out of defensiveness?
And I totally do the latter. Not proud of it but hey, since I’m already being brutally honest I may as well own some of my ish. It was good for me to hear and be mindful of because perhaps their opinions ought not get that much power over me. And to be clear, I do think there’s a difference between what I’m describing and healthy boundaries when people get disrespectful or demanding.
But it’s tricky when you also want to be challenged and grow, and in order to do that, you have to let people close to you. In order to get feedback that you don’t just discard when it’s too uncomfortable, you have to accept what is said. Even if it hurts. And that means their words must hold value and power.
I’m not going to ask how you navigate that because I’m not really looking for advice on any of this. But I am sharing and attempting to be vulnerable because it feels isolating to have all these thoughts swarming my head (ya know, this being free therapy and all). And maybe, someone else has had some of these thoughts too and feels incredibly alone in them. I firmly believe that a remedy to remove the power of those big thoughts or feelings is by talking about them. By saying, “me too.” By connecting with each other and being vulnerable. I mean, isn’t that what all of us want at the end of the day? To connect with others, being able to be ourselves honestly and know that someone out there understands you? Maybe that’s just the enneagram four in me (if you know, you know).
yours truly,
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