My Journey to Parenthood

         I remember the exact moment I decided to become a parent.  I didn’t say to have children, I said to become a parent.  The minute that I decided to become a mother to my three girls was very intense for me.  I cried for days because of the shame I felt at what I had become.  I was the very thing that I had despised in my own mother.
         I look back sometimes at where I used to be, and it breaks my heart at what kind of person I was. Not only was I a horrible person that had totally given up on life and lost all faith, I was an even worse mother.  I was what I knew.  My mother was anything but a mother.  When my dad left and my mother was stuck with two kids and no husband, she folded and quit.  My dad leaving her was more than she could handle and she never recovered. 
         As a child I wondered what I had done wrong to make mommy so sad and daddy go away. As time passed, I began to feel like I must not be worth much if my own mother can’t love me enough to stay strong and move on.  Children put in my situation grow up to be parents, too, and this vicious pattern of insecurity never ends because they do what they know also.
         Being a good parent is not something we are born with. It is learned and passed down from generation to generation. I am one of the lucky people who was blessed with a chance to break that chain of disparity and hopelessness.  I was a twenty-four year old mother with three young girls, a high school diploma, no experience or means of supporting them. 
         At sixteen, life with my mother had become so unbearable, I decided to have my own family.  I had three children before I was twenty-one.  Working two jobs, running the house, taking care of the kids and a husband that had no idea what it meant to be a father or husband, became too much for me.  I resented my life and of course the kids certainly weren’t making life easier.  I loved them but I didn’t know how to be a mother to them.  At that time they were a punishment from God for my being such a terrible child myself.  They were provided for and taken care of, but that was about it.  Their father was jealous of them; therefore, any time I did spend with them was time away from him. I chose the easy way and did whatever I could to keep him happy.          
         What makes a person be this way?  How did I get myself to such a point of despair that I found it necessary to escape reality rather than change it.  Is there a word that can be said to make a person snap out of it and fight for better when this kind of life is all they know?  What can be done to let people know that being a parent is a privilege not a duty?  These patterns can be broken if people would just THINK. 
         This way of thinking becomes a way of life.  The haves and the have nots.  There came a time that my mind finally rejected this thinking and started dreaming again.  These thoughts were shared with no one for fear of ridicule and fear that the dreams would stop.  They were all I had to get me through the day.  Small things began happening and instead of being afraid, I paid attention, took notes, and started building a new life for myself and my girls.
         I met some new people that showed me that I’m not a bad person and that I had something to offer the world.  I had to begin with providing my children with the best possible life I could. I slowly started gaining the confidence and strength I needed to fight for the things I thought we deserved.  That was so hard; quitting would have been easier, but all I had to do was look at the girls, and think about them growing up and turning into what I was, and I pushed myself harder. 
         Going from the person I was then to the person I am now was a journey never to be forgotten.  I’ve learned so much along the way but I’ve never forgotten that person I left behind.  That woman is very much a part of the driving force behind my everyday successes and failures.  All I ever really needed was someone to show me how to dream, and work for what I wanted.           Anyone can make babies.  Turning those babies into successful adults that contribute something positive to society makes us real parents