Mother

I have always been a mother — for many lifetimes. Give me a kid, and I know what to do. It comes naturally. I remember, and I love to nurture.

Early on in my life, during my childhood, I watched my mother struggle. I felt her frustration and resentment about raising children and her bottled-up desire to be free and not shackled by parenting.

Motherhood was a given for women of her generation, and it was assumed that having babies was the goal; it was a foregone conclusion. Period.

My mom was deeply unhappy, and my dad was not much help either. Being the man of the house, he was often absent. He was the breadwinner and hung out with the guys in his free time, not with his children.

When I was fifteen, I decided it was not for me.

I did not want to repeat what I saw my mother do. I did not want my children to inherit my unprocessed trauma. The concept of “family” felt repulsive. Many of my peers were eager to start their own families to do things differently and better than their parents.

Not me.

I made a vow that I wanted to be whole and heal my childhood wounds before I would consider having children of my own. I always wondered whether my parents would have embraced their fate differently if they had received parenting support.

First and foremost, I wanted to help other people’s children, especially kids who were mistreated, misunderstood, or simply different.

So, I got myself a graduate degree in special education and embarked on my mission.

After a disillusioned stint in the public school system, I went off the grid for a few years to travel, explore other cultures, do spiritual things, and dive deep into my mother- wound. It turned out to be a wise decision.

The longer I worked on becoming whole, the more complete I felt.

It was complex and oh-so liberating. I found freedom in loving big and small people, nature, and animals and discovered infinite ways of expressing my maternal energy.

I love children. I cannot imagine my life without them.

I was fortunate because I worked with children of all ages and their parents at a private school. I had the freedom to be wickedly creative, instill joy for learning in my students, and counsel many families.

Not to be a downer, but there were times when I witnessed great pain in the children of adults who were at odds with each other. I saw parents fight tooth and nail in front of their offspring. It was heartbreaking.

I also witnessed the cared-for, grounded children who were innately confident because they were wanted, cherished, and had happy families.

This was healing for me, too. It was beautiful to see so many kids grow up, be resilient, and overcome challenges, be they academic, social, or due to family heartbreak.

And I got to play a tiny part in it.

You are hilarious! — Paul, nine years old

Can I come home with you and sleep in your dog’s bed? — Maya, seven years old

You really see who my child is — Sarah, mom of ten-year-old Deena

Every night, he sings the songs you taught him when he goes to sleep— Joe, dad of eight-year-old Justin

To this day, I am in contact with some of my former students. To this day, I have never once regretted not giving birth.

As an archetype, the mother goddess is a goddess entity/figure who represents or is the personification of nature, motherhood, fertility, creation, destruction, or who embodies the bounty of the Earth.

My life is whole, and my love is boundless. I can be a mother whenever I want. I am thankful for that.