Open Letter To My Children: Not Everything Was Perfect But I Did My Best

Do you remember those days at the beach? When we would leave early before the sun had even risen. I was always afraid you would be cold. It was magical to see the look in your eyes when the sea appeared through the car window. And then, inevitably, there were always my screams, and your screams too. There was always screaming. There are so many things inside us and our skin is only so thick… Of course, it exploded. In this story, not everything was perfect, but I did my best.

When I became a mom...

When I became a mother, I became an island. I felt powerful, but actually I was alone in the middle of the ocean, having to face the gusts of wind and the burning sun. People visited me, people trampled on me, and even though everyone seemed to know where I was, I myself was lost. We only have one mother and I felt very alone, I didn’t have a guide and I cried, swore, sighed about the frightening little beings that you were. I was full of anxieties and they spread throughout our home. I wanted to be perfect but you didn’t care. Maybe I spent too much time worrying about what might happen. I touched you, I watched you attentively for the slightest sign that something was wrong… I suffocated you and that was the problem.

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And then there is anger

I have often been compared to an animal. I was told that like mares, my impulsiveness and impatience would disappear when I had a child. Others are sometimes so stunned… Anyway, the predictions turned out to be wrong. How could you not feel the storm coming when faced with your rebellious glances, your sharp words, your cutting gestures? So yes, I let go of your hands, left rooms, slammed doors. I resented you for being against me and not completely against me. I silently wished in my head for you to disappear. I was like a tearful lover. I tried to coax you, to force your affection, I looked for the love in you with hugs that you rejected and then I gave up.

Locked in my silence, I became this emotionless woman, just a wet nurse. But remember the heat after the storm! When your little arms became necklaces around my neck, when I kissed your noses and stroked your hair. It was impossible to be calm, anger was chased away with big kisses. It was crazy, complete nonsense. A real torrent of emotions. With you, I got it all wrong. I didn’t always take the time to play or read stories. Sometimes I wasn’t very available or too present. I would have liked to teach you happiness, freedom, self-confidence… I would have liked to always be there for you, to be available and also take time for myself, to be able to come back even better, a little better. I didn’t find the solution to this dilemma, I did what I could. I moved up to the line, gave it a big kick and tried as best as I could to take back control. But the love! The love between us! How can we be perfect when this improbable love keeps us going?

Family“This possibility that motherhood is not an innate gift, that it is constructed with the child with doubt and chaos, with the trial and error of the most loving reason.” Marc Vilrouge

I am an island

Today I am still an island. Motherhood isolates you. Being your mother is not like being your father, it’s not like being my own mother and it’s not like being other mothers. It’s no longer about the woman I was before, not another one, but not quite the same one either. I am an island and I have a crazy family in my bosom. I protect against gales but sometimes let a storm pass. Sometimes we get soaked, we’re a little less warm, we shiver, but I do my best as I’m just an island!

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Editor’s note – We don’t have the children of our dreams

With pregnancy, fantasies and dreams are born and grow. We imagine our children, what we will do with them and who they will become. We have to admit that the reality is sometimes brutal. Instead of the calm and affectionate child I was expecting, I have a stubborn mule who is noisy and temperamental. We are not always the parents we hoped to be. Sometimes we try to become one with different educational books but our children are not the same as others and they are not always who we hoped they would be. Let’s reassure ourselves, we haven’t done anything wrong, apart from idealising them!

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