I have always found journaling a bit inconvenient and purposeless– as I have written in many of my entries– but I do it because Matt really wanted me to. Today, however, I feel it's time to open up a little cause my thoughts are running a rampage, and I don't know whom to share them with without an ounce of judgement or advice. I can't think of anyone other than pages and some ink.
You see, my mother is a great person but I never want to be like her.
Not that she is very bad or she ruined my childhood, but there was only so harmonious a relationship can be, especially that of two people who are "supposedly" the most alike in personality.
My mother was a great concert pianist. She is retired now but it doesn't change the fact that she was what people considered "the greatest talents of this generation". Music– playing piano specifically– was what gave her life. If you search on Google, you will find that that woman has been playing since she was 3 and professionally since she was 10 years old. There was, however, a small break from the age 22 to 25. That's where I came along. 22 was a young age indeed, and I am grateful that my mother sacrificed her career for me. Some might say it was bare minimum but it was a huge deal, with how much she loved playing for the audience. From a stage, she got demoted to a kitchen island with a toddler who only cared about how to get out of the high chair and climb over the aforementioned island. It was fine for a while, I guess. Then she resumed her career. That's the earliest memory I have of her actually. Me standing at the stage of my school play with just my dad in the audience. No mom. Never my mom.
I understood and still understand that her job was not a typical one, but a girl's heart couldn't really stop from hurting even if she knew the logic behind it all. But what else could I do? So, I waited and went along with it. Sometimes we accompanied her to different countries to her shows but there was only so much travelling we could do with my school and dad's work.
My mother tried to row two boats at the same time... It was rather inevitable that one of the boats tipped.
That boat was me.
I always thought it was better if she could have chosen – between me and the piano, because her being away and then coming back again and again, promising she would be more present next time; providing that false hope, it was all too much. It’s safe to say, we had a row. I asked her to choose, she couldn’t, and I left. It took me years and years to come at this point where I think I truly – and begrudgingly– understand her.
Mothers really can’t do anything right, even if they do their best. Society has pressured women to be this image of ‘good mothers’ with no actual suggestions to offer, but a bag full of critics. A woman’s own identity is never noticed after a child’s existence is attached to her.
I am not saying children are not blessings, they truly are. I am just saying how unfair it is that after becoming mothers, women are never seen as humans. Humans with goals and aspirations along with the love for their family but still dreams that live in their heart and soul.
My mother was just trying to juggle her personal and very hectic professional life. I think she would've resented me overtime if she had stayed for me indefinitely, or would’ve riddled with guilt if she left me and dad for her career. I can sympathize with that situation. But I still believe with all my heart that she should’ve made a choice. I saw what happened when she didn’t choose, went through the worst of it, and now, I am standing at the fork of a similar kind of road.
So, those were my thoughts. I didn’t need to justify my past or my actions to anyone, but writing it down has helped me fortify my resolve in this moment. There is a high chance I am always gonna think about “what ifs”, but I am not going to have any regrets for the decision I am making now. Taking decisions as a mother is hard and what I am going to do is not going to earn me any brownie points. But the decision is made that I feel is right for all of us. Thank you.
Sincerely,
A woman, a wife, and a mom trying to be good.
