Today’s guest post is shared anonymously by a mom who knows what it means to love someone in spite of their behaviors, choices, and flaws. To love someone regardless of whether the love is reciprocated. I hope this post helps other moms feel less isolated in their feelings and circumstances.
I want to share some real truths from a parent who is not always proud of her kids. I am sharing from the perspective of a parent who almost wants to cringe when asked how their kids are.
I have never really been asked about how I feel about my kids. I guess we never ask those questions because we just assume that every parent is madly in love and beaming with pride when given the opportunity to share any information concerning their offspring. I always wondered how I would describe my feelings for my children.
I am one of those parents who would avoid the subject as though I had been asked about religion or politics. I love my children with all my heart, and nothing you can say will change my mind about my kids no matter what evidence you present me with. I know what they do, what they have done, the things they say. I can say that I know this as an absolute truth because my children collectively have done plenty to shame me into silence on the subject. Not all of them, and I do not say that to indicate that I loved one more than the others or to indicate that I have a favorite, but some of my children have made life changing mistakes. The moral code of our society prevents me from having any defense except to say, “but I love them anyway.”
My children are not the source of my pride and joy, and they are rarely the source of my happiness. I do remember who I was before them, and I am certain of who I am now no matter what story they are telling on me to run whatever swindle or generate likes for their TikTok account, I know exactly who I am.
I am a mother who loves anyway, who prays anyway and earnestly, and I will continue to hope for them even though there is little or no indication God is listening. I know God answers some prayers long after we are gone. So I love my children as much and more even than the one who raised a saint that deserves accolades and praise. For all their faults, they are mine. I love them enough that no matter what they say about me, no matter what they do, no matter what scandal rocks my world tomorrow or the next day, I know I will love them, and I will always see the potential, the good.
I will always have hope that whatever they have done, their stories are not over yet. Any parent who has raised a child ruled by addiction, mental illness, or any other dysfunction can relate. Of course, we love our children, and that love is proven over and over. While we may not have much to brag about, we still love, and that love is tested regularly, and yet it endures all of it.