I’ve always been a late bloomer and a reformed people-pleaser. It wasn’t until I became a mother that I truly learned to embrace adulthood.
My son arrived in dramatic fashion, breaking my tailbone in the process. A childhood mishap involving a bucking mule had left my tailbone bent inward, a fact I was blissfully unaware of until, after two grueling hours of labor, doctors revealed my baby boy was stuck. With the looming possibility of a C-section hanging over us, both of us furrowed our brows and rolled up our metaphorical sleeves. I pushed with all my strength, and he re-broke the bone on his way into the world.
Sure, it sounds painful, but really, what’s a broken bone when you’re bringing a human into existence? It was just one more annoyance in an already uncomfortable situation (and it makes for a pretty epic story).
When I first stepped into motherhood, self-doubt was my constant companion. I remember being so anxious about changing my baby’s diaper that I needed help for far longer than I care to admit. Looking back at that nervous person, I can’t feel angry—she was just learning. But boy, did she need to grow up.
The universe, in its infinite wisdom, gifted me with a particularly strong-willed first child, forcing me out of my comfort zone like never before. I had no choice but to tune out the noise and trust my instincts.
I learned that my mother’s wisdom doesn’t always apply to my parenting choices. While she was the best guide when she was raising me, her perspective doesn’t automatically translate to what’s best for me or my kids now. Change is disorienting but also necessary.
I discovered that it doesn’t matter what others think about my parenting. My children are mine to nurture, challenge, and, yes, potentially mess up. I stopped apologizing for the state of my home, the meals (or lack thereof) I prepared, my appearance, or even my son’s personality. One day, I simply ran out of apologies. I refuse to live under the assumption that I owe anyone an explanation for who I am. Part of growing up is recognizing your own worth and owning it.
Through parenting my spirited son, I unearthed a resilience I never knew existed. It shattered every wall I’d built around myself. I had to toss aside every parenting book I’d read and start anew. I’m no longer a delicate flower; I can confidently hoist a 60-pound child over my shoulder and carry him out of a store if needed, and he knows it. Over time, I’ve discovered an inner strength that surprises me.
I came to realize that I’m actually a pretty great mom. It didn’t happen overnight, but eventually, I recognized that I hadn’t completely messed up this complicated kid. He’s still a challenge, and some days are tough, but I now stand firm in my choices. I’ve grown up, and that confidence reflects in my parenting.
That boy, who has added a few gray hairs to my head, has shaped me in ways I never anticipated. He’s helped me mature. And thanks to him, I can even predict the weather—my aching tailbone is a reliable barometer.
For more insights into parenting and tips on home insemination, check out our post on at-home insemination kits and consider visiting Healthline for excellent pregnancy resources.
In summary, raising a strong-willed child has pushed me to evolve into the confident parent I am today. Each challenge has strengthened my resolve and taught me valuable lessons in self-acceptance and resilience.