There’s a truth I must share: I care deeply for my mom. But there’s also another truth that haunts me: I fear becoming her.
I know this might sound harsh or even ungrateful, especially considering the incredible mother she has been. She divorced my father when my brother and I were very young, raising us alone while he vanished from our lives. She juggled three jobs and ensured we never experienced hunger. She set boundaries yet forgave our mistakes, always encouraging us to achieve our best.
In doing all this, she sacrificed her own life. Rarely did she pursue her interests or take time for herself, fully immersing herself in the role of “single mom.” She devoted everything to us, but in the process, neglected to build a life for herself as we grew into adults.
Now that my brother and I have our own children, she finds joy in our kids’ stories and visits, which we try to arrange frequently. In between these moments, she engages in quiet activities, but she lacks meaningful friendships, hobbies, or aspirations. Often, she waits alone for our next visit or update. From my perspective, it seems incredibly lonely.
Looking at her life feels like a glimpse into my potential future, and it terrifies me. I recently separated from my children’s father, who is no longer in the picture. Now, I’m the sole caretaker for my two daughters. I find myself in a situation strikingly similar to my mother’s when she was my age.
I understand the immense effort it takes to raise children. It demands everything, and I’m ready to give my all for my daughters, just as my mother did for us. Yet, I can’t shake the feeling of dread when I observe my mother’s current life. I fear repeating her story—of giving too much and retaining nothing for myself. Even if she appears content, I know I wouldn’t feel the same.
I recognize the importance of establishing a foundation for my future—a life beyond motherhood. I need to invest time now in nurturing friendships and pursuing my interests. My mother, however, never carved out that time for herself.
So, how do I emulate her dedication without losing myself? How can I strike that elusive balance between giving and preserving my identity?
I might choose to give as much as she did, but I need to remember that life doesn’t stop when my kids grow up. In fact, it can often get better from there. Patience, however, has never been my strong suit.
Ultimately, I’ve come to realize that instead of striving for balance, I must embrace the idea that keeping some of “me” for myself is essential. Motherhood doesn’t have to be an ultimate sacrifice. You don’t need to give everything to be a good mom, even as a single parent.
It’s also crucial to step back from my fears about becoming like my mother and instead appreciate the life she has created for herself. She finds joy in her daily activities, and perhaps she’s living the life she envisioned for herself after all.
I often think my mom fell into her life inadvertently. I tell myself she didn’t realize that by giving us so much, she may have left little for herself. But maybe that’s not the case; maybe she knew exactly what she was doing, balancing her needs with those of her children.
If that’s true, then perhaps there’s much I can learn from her journey.
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In summary, while I admire my mother’s sacrifices, I am determined not to lose my identity as I navigate motherhood. I want to ensure that I build a life that allows for personal fulfillment alongside my responsibilities as a parent.