My daughter is ten. She is becoming more independent every day. I have to let her keep growing away from me. To do otherwise would be abuse of the worst kind. But, oh - is it hard.
My daughter’s birth was like a bridge that sprung up between me and the rest of humanity. Suddenly, miraculously, I belonged to someone.
I have never felt worthy of her, and I have always been unspeakably grateful for her birth. But that gratitude is threatening to become her prison.
My daughter is not mine. She belongs to herself. She has merely been loaning herself to me. Every day, she takes a bit more of herself into her own possession. Every day.
What I need to remember is that she is not taking anything away from me- she is not chipping away at my selfhood by claiming her own. Her plump fresh hands do not hold the key to my significance. I need to know this - for her sake. For the sake of her tender new wings.
At a very young age, I traded in the hope of being loved for the hope of being needed. It’s a classic TQ compromise : I cannot be of value, but I can be of use. Why stand on your own two feet when you can stand on mine? Justify my existence: use me, please.
TQ’s ( that stands for Trauma Queens - my blog is called Big Fat Trauma Queen: a lighthearted look at traumatic abuse and its aftermath) make fantastic baby nurses. Attachment parenting? No problem. I’d still carry my kid in a baby sling if she’d let me. Round the clock breast-feeding on demand? Of course - I did it for almost four years. Family bed? Sure. My daughter chose to sleep on her own when she was eight. It wasn’t my idea. I miss her sweet-smelling head on the pillow next to mine.
Every day, my daughter takes more of herself into her own possession. And it is time for her mother to do the same. I have to claim my own selfhood, so my daughter can continue to claim her own. I need to become precious in my own eyes, and release my child from the burden of giving value to my life.
Who am I if nobody needs me? Just useless and loved.
And you know what?
That doesn't sound half bad.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
is it possible to fall in love with a blog? i think i just fell in love with a blog. it started with your "Ho Mama! A Blog for Slutty, Single, Low-income Moms" post on Open Salon. It was love at first sight. I don't even care if you don't love me back. it's like that. Love, Nathalie (http://wbai.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=9786&Itemid=135)
ReplyDeleteMy daughter is only 2 and I'm already a big ball of neurotic mess about this. I could spend every day all day with her (but unfortunately, I'm not home with her all day since I have to work) and worry about what happens when she's fifteen and turns to me and says enough already mom, no more cuddling.
ReplyDeleteTeach your child the way he should go and when he grow up he will never depart from it. I believe in this bible verse so I think that you should continue guiding her throughout her life and let her be the best she can be. My arizona medical malpractice team likes this.
ReplyDelete