I am not a parent. I had grown up harboring no maternal aspirations nor dreams of bearing children. In fact, my early 20s were marred with such negative thoughts when it came to raising children, that I would turn down dates with anyone who was already a father. It simply was a deal breaker for me when it came to engaging in romantic relationships with someone who already had devoted their life to parenting. Now in my (gasp) late 20s, I am not only involved with someone who has children, but his children are bordering on the cusp of adulthood as they are not really children in the adolescent sense, but in fact, they’re full-fledged teenagers. Let me tell you how fun it is jumping into the hormonal teenage years with zero previous parenting experience; approximately 2% fun. My anxiety riddled self thought I would rock it. I was sorely mistaken. Just when I think I’m getting the hang of things, I get thrown a curve ball and am reduced to a stressful shell of a human being with only the vaguest idea of how an adult should be represented.
I was an inquisitive, hungry student constantly thirsting for knowledge when I was on my academic journey. But why the f*** is there no manual to study when it comes to rearing children? Not only that, but every kid is different. So, what works with one may crash and burn when it comes to the next. I taught kids for years, either tutoring for school or in BJJ and those children loved me. Granted, I spent at most 2 hours with them and handed them back to their parents after my obligations were met. You know when children don’t love you? When you take their cell phones away for falling behind in school or you don’t permit sleepovers on school nights. Suddenly I make Stalin seem like a pleasant chap to be around. And the worst part about it is my partner makes it look so easy. I know it’s true that he has been doing this for years, but I still feel like I’m drowning in a sea of uncertainty and he is Michael Phelps swimming laps around my flailing arms while I’m perpetually clamoring to the surface for more oxygen.
I’ll never forget when we first started dating. I thought this whole thing would be a cinch. After all, I usually excelled in anything I set my mind to. Then, one weekend, I screwed up and caused tears from both of them in two separate instances. I literally felt like the lowest of the low. Most parents are used to tears from their children at one point or another, but did I mention I was only a few months into this? That whole weekend I felt like everything I did was wrong. I actually had to go for a walk that night to clear my head (and took a bottle of wine with me which gave me so much clarity on the mom’s who always joked about wine clubs) and I ended up calling my mom, sobbing incoherently over the phone and apologizing for being such a turd when I was that age. (Quick deviation, Mom, if you’re reading this, you are a saint for putting up with my attitude, hormones, and behavior all those years and I love you.) And when I came home, I found my partner laughing. Not in a derogatory way at my expense, but because he fully understood where I was coming from and knew I put such a ridiculous amount of pressure on myself to succeed in something I had no experience in whatsoever. It comforted me to know when he confided in me that everyone was pretty much just winging it and gets driven insane from time to time, but love helps power through. According to him, the more time you put in the more comfortable you get at it and can adapt your role for future situations.
I am beyond lucky that he has such amazing kids. Even his step kids have been nothing but kind to me when in all honesty, they really don’t need to be. I am not their mother nor do I ever intend to make it seem like I am over-stepping my boundaries; I know my place. They have all awakened an emotional side of me I never thought I was capable of. I cry with pride at their accomplishments. I cry with joy at the beauty they exude, both in appearance and personality. Hell, I even cried when I was told I was loved for the first time. I’ve put my mind and body through the most rigorous of training in preparation for my fights and I still stand by the fact that parenting (if I can even call it that as I am only the girlfriend of a parent) is far and away the hardest thing I have ever done. But damn, when I see those kids reaching their potential, it is so worth it. I never thought I could love anyone so much, let alone children, but here I am bursting with affection at the thought of them.
I gaze into their future and see so much greatness and possibility for the both of them. They are such wholly good individuals deep at their core, and I admire so many different traits I see in the two of them. I think this is why I can be a little hard on them when someone slips up, as children will often tend to do. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to shake some sense into them because I don’t want either of them to endure any suffering. I just want better for them both than what I did for myself. I don’t want them to make the same mistakes I did. I don’t want them learning lessons the hard way. When their heart gets broken, mine breaks alongside with them and I wish I could take away their heartache and bear all the pain for them myself. Unfortunately, that is not how life works and I know the only thing I can do is try and lead by example. I promise to be the best person I can be and hopefully when they think of me, they see a strong and capable individual who only wanted to do some good in the world and never gave up on love or her dreams and always tried her best at any obstacle in her path. I hope they know that no matter what happens in life, I will always be here for them and that they can always come and talk to me. I will listen, I will provide advice if asked, I will question, I will be a shoulder to cry on, I will laugh with them, I will hug them, I will celebrate their accomplishments, I will sympathize with their defeats, but most importantly, I will love them forever.
