Fecking crushed it!!

Tonight, we took our kids out for dinner to celebrate my eldest child officially finishing High School. It was a simple celebration because there has been quite a lot of celebrating in the lead up to this moment. The celebration has felt a little anti-climactic, but that is because we did proper celebrations when he formally graduated 3 weeks ago. He has had to return to school for his final exams over the course of the last 3 weeks. So tonight, we celebrated the last ever school exam, which is actually his last ever school engagement.

It has been significant for me to reach this point in my parenting journey. I was terrified of becoming a mother. In fact, when I was his age (year 12), I made the decision that I would never have children, because I would only screw them up, the way that I had been screwed up by my parents.

My senior years of high school were awful. There was so much going on for me. There was, of course the regular pressure of simply being in year 12 - navigating grades, peer groups and big life choices. I was also heavily involved in the cultural life of the school and playing music to a very high standard. This meant school band rehearsals and sports practice almost every day, as well as between 4-6 hours of music practice, on top of a regular school load. But add to that the fact that I was the youngest of 4 children, the last one left at home, living in an environment with two narcissistic parents that were not able or willing to provide any form of comfort or safety. Home life was toxic and was a place I avoided spending more time in that was absolutely necessary - hence the over-involvement in school bands and sports teams. Add to that, the fact that I did not have the language to articulate that I was living in a narcissistic system. All I knew at the time was that my parents constantly set me up to fail so that there was always an abundance of evidence that I was a disappointment to them and that they were 'just devastated' by any independent choice I made about anything, ever.

In hindsight, I see Kartman's drama triangle was operating like clockwork in my family dynamic with love-bombing, narcissistic rage and gaslighting being played out like a well-rehearsed waltz to keep me in a constant state of confusion and submission. It led to me being a very angry teen, with no safe way of articulating or expressing that anger. So, I adopted the idea that most survivors of narcissistic abuse agree to - I am a defective person who is incapable of being loved and unworthy of acceptance. I did not want to do that to my own kids, so I made the life-long decision, at the ripe old age of 17, that I would never have children of my own...

But I grew up. I flew the nest, and I found myself surrounded by people who had different experiences of family. These people gave me a sense of acceptance, which I found to be really really nice. So, I leaned into this new community with every fiber of my being, and I gleaned as much as I could from observing the dynamics of families that seemed to be radically different to my own. These families operated from a platform of love, grace and acceptance, rather than shame humiliation and intimidation. It was the very beginning of healing for me...

Then, I met a boy, and despite my radical attempts to deny it, I fell in love. He made me feel safe. He was the first person I really felt that I could trust... We got married and we had children.

I read all the books!! I did the parenting courses... I asked so many questions of the older women in my community who I thought were doing the mothering thing right. And I prayed like a lunatic! I prayed constantly that I would not screw these kids up the way that I was screwed up...

And I tried to extend grace and create opportunities for my children to have a different experience of my parents than I did. I convinced myself that grandparents are really important in a child's life and even though I had my "stuff" with my parents, it was right and good for them to be grandparents to my children.

I remember the day I changed my mind on this... by this time I had two young children and had just buried my third child who had died very unexpectedly and traumatically during labor at full-term. My little boy had not been dead 6 weeks when I found my mother sitting in my living room in one of her narcissistic rages. She was screaming at me that "all of [my] children are going to grow up with major psychiatric issues" because of the type of mother I was and the type of father my husband was... I was a grieving mother, just doing the very best I could, and still the need to shame, humiliate and abuse in order to prove her superiority was what she found important in that moment... Within 18 months, my relationship with my parents had ended - but that is a story for another time...

Fast forward to now... My oldest son has made it through childhood, and to date, no major psychiatric issues seem to have presented... In fact, he seems to have thrived through his childhood. Graduating among the top of his class, scoring in the top 10-15% in national exams, being well respected enough by peers and school staff to have been School Captain in his senior year, effortlessly delivering outstanding speeches to upwards of 1000 people, performing as front man in a band that is doing very well, owning his own values and convictions and making choice for himself in line with those...

This kid of mine has not just scraped through his childhood and survived... he has fecking crushed it!! And on top of that, he is a really lovely person. I really like the young man that he has grown into... So, yeah, I wanted my kids to have a different experience to what I have had and at the moment, I feel really proud. I fecking crushed in spite of those awful words spoken over me by my own mother. I am proud of the man my son has become. But you know what else... I'm really proud of that mother that I am. And that feels really good.