Almost the Other Side

As a mother, I’ve entered a stage of life that feels unfamiliar. It’s a time of self-discovery when I’m redefining my role. For years, my understanding of motherhood was shaped by the demands of caring for babies, juggling careers, and the constant struggle to find the right balance. But then, in what felt like an instant, my children were grown, independent, and driving themselves around. 

My journey through motherhood has been a rollercoaster of emotions. It's been a constant negotiation, a battle with sleepless nights, and a dance with fear. But through it all, love has been the guiding light. 

The love I have for my children is a love that I didn’t fully comprehend until I was on the cusp of the next phase of parenting. I call it the 'almost the other side' because parenting, coaching, and observing is a delicate balance. It’s a stage where your children still seek your advice and financial support but are also eager to carve their paths. They may not live under your roof, but they're close enough to need you. And if I’m being honest, I still need them.

I’m of the age that I wear reading glasses and have, at times, needed help streaming a show that interfaced with a PlayStation 4 or 5. When I couldn’t find my glasses and needed to read the fine print, one of my sons was around, and he lent me his eyes to read the fine print. I think about these moments and think of myself as old for asking. I remember having kind children willing to help me and their grandparents. It’s okay to need and ask for help. 

I’ve grown up with parents who are often afraid to ask for help because they feel like it will be a burden, and I’ve had to fight this feeling with my children. I learned that my grandparents had to be self-reliant, which influenced my parents.  Growing up as a first-generation Black American, I’ve seen on television how intergenerational families live, though, to be honest, most of those families didn’t represent my Caribbean parents. The experiences of expectations of being the best in school, comparisons with classmates, and obtaining a doctorate were the gold standard of parenting. I knew my parents were doing their best, but the pressure it caused me influenced my anxiety and self-doubts. 

I didn't grow up surrounded by grandparents, but my children have. I’ve had to piece together what I want family to mean and what I wish parenting to be. I’ve often analyzed whether I'm a good enough parent. Was I gone too much due to work? Did I go to enough of my kids' events? Was I a good mom?

See, I’m not what I would call a traditional mom. I didn’t breastfeed. I didn’t attend school field trips. I had my first son during the start of my second year of residency.  I don’t love to cook. I prefer eating out but know that it’s not sustainable or suitable for the budget or eating healthy. I don’t love to clean the house. I don’t love to entertain. I’m a homebody and sometimes a slob. I’ve wondered if my example of being a mom would influence what my sons think of a mom. I’m pretty different from their Grandmothers. 

Thinking about yourself and trying to put others first is quickly challenging and fatiguing mentally. Trying to be yourself around your kids and being vulnerable can also be difficult. You can’t tell a toddler you feel you’ve failed because you barely missed their preschool graduation. Guilt that you hold onto for nearly twenty years or the idea that you once thought that spankings were okay but still ambivalent while enacting the punishment, and you still regret it as well, even though you stopped. No one talks about this part of mothering. 

There were times when I cried with guilt for how I was parenting. I overanalyzed and compared myself to the idealized model of motherhood. Then, add on the trope of being a strong Black woman. At times, I felt set up to fail. But through self-reflection and understanding, I've realized that I am a good mother, even if I don't fit the societal mold. 

I’ve found ways to make amends for the “transgressions” made against my children. These are the same children who are grown up, kind, funny, and becoming who they want to be. Having the duality of being a bystander and participating in their journeys is not just fantastic; it's a testament to my resilience and growth as a parent. They’ve grown, and I love them and like them, and I'm proud of the parent I've become.

This time of life as a parent is uncharted waters for me. When my kids were younger, I could pick up any parenting book about raising babies, toddlers, tweens, and teens. There are few books on being a middle-aged mom navigating menopause with emerging young adults. 

Menopause is another topic that no one has discussed in terms of parenting. Were some of my arguments or frustration for stupid things have been due to being perimenopausal? Did my brain fog or lack of sleep have anything to do with my mood swings? Are you anxious about waiting to hear the car pull up or the front door open late at night?  It had to affect my parenting during the critical adolescent years.  But I’m making a way. Sometimes, I think that if I parented now, I would be the greatest mom in the world because I have my menopausal treatments, so my mood is excellent, and I’m sleeping better.

Hmm, I am still a parent, but in an unfamiliar state and stage of parenting. Maybe it’s my time to play and reimagine how I parent this time. For all the mistakes I’ve made,  I’ve felt or thought I’ve made, or the shortcomings of not living up to the fictionalized idealized parenting examples, I made it and always did it with love.

Note: Canva. (2024). AI-generated image of a Black mother, child, and grandmother. [Image]. Canva.