Updated: May 9, 2017
Originally Published: Jan. 27, 2013
Growing up, I was well aware of my sheltered upbringing. I spent my childhood in the South, in a devout Baptist family, surrounded by loving parents and protective siblings. The idea of peer pressure in my world meant simply calling my mom if I was out too late. My hometown resembled the idyllic Pleasantville, where there were no threats lurking in the shadows—no crime, no danger. Certainly, there were no drugs in Pleasantville.
I always thought those dramatic after-school specials about kids spiraling into substance abuse were exaggerated; surely, those kids just weren’t as bright as I was. But looking back, I realize I was incredibly naïve and perhaps a bit self-absorbed, blind to the struggles happening around me.
The first time I encountered marijuana, my best friend discreetly asked me to stash a small bag in my backpack to keep it hidden from her parents. I declined. There wasn’t a dramatic fallout; she wasn’t angry, and I didn’t feel the need to lecture her about the dangers of drugs. It didn’t mark a pivotal moment in my life, and I hardly thought about it again for years.
As I navigated through my teenage years, my experiences with illegal substances were mostly limited to underage drinking and the occasional offer to smoke a joint. Surprisingly, I managed to avoid that scene pretty well. I even held off on drinking until just before my 21st birthday, which seems amusing now but felt significant at the time. I experimented with cigarettes occasionally, which made me feel included but didn’t particularly impress me.
Reflecting on my sheltered upbringing fills me with mixed emotions. I feel grateful that I was raised in a place where the school D.A.R.E. officer had little to do and where the dangers of drugs felt like something from a fictional realm. Yet, I am also saddened to realize that people I knew personally struggled with addiction. Some have lost siblings, and others have succumbed to overdoses.
How did I remain so oblivious? It’s puzzling to think that I lived in such a bubble that I missed the reality around me. I never encountered hard drugs firsthand; my understanding of the subject came solely from criminal justice classes and reruns of crime shows.
Now, as a parent myself, I see the world through a different lens, recognizing the potential for negative influences and poor choices everywhere. The idea of keeping my kids in a bubble, hoping they would only experience the kind of positive peer pressure I had, feels insufficient. I can’t risk that someone might lead them away from the safe haven of my love and guidance.
I plan to keep my children sheltered, but I will also open the blinds a little. I want to teach them about navigating the world around them, preparing them for tough situations while still protecting them. It’s a balance I strive to achieve, hoping they learn to handle challenges when they venture out on their own.
It’s all I can do as a parent. It’s all any parent can do. To find out more about navigating the journey of parenthood, you can check out this insightful post. For those considering starting their families, Make a Mom provides excellent resources. Also, American Pregnancy offers valuable information on donor insemination options.
In summary, while I was fortunate to grow up in a seemingly perfect environment, I’ve come to understand the importance of awareness and education in parenting. By opening up discussions about the realities of the world, I aim to equip my children with the knowledge to make safe choices when they face the inevitable challenges of life.