I'm 30, a two-year-old mom and scared to death about what my life will be like next year on the brink of divorce.
My Mom has designed for me the perfect child, the most educated, the most disciplined, the perfect student, the high school student who spends the afternoon learning at home and not in the ways of society like ordinary teenagers (unless I secretly did, I never went out for coffee with friends in my teens). I could never go wrong with a super trial otherwise, and compared to all the kids on the planet who "didn't even have half of my conditions," but they were better than me.
When I was 19, in my first relationship, I was put in the choice of: engagement or separation because my parents could perceive their perfect child to have an unofficial connection and to be seen on the streets with a boy unknown to the family. Understandably, I chose engagement because in my teens I loved that man. I started living one month after the wedding and after less than a year of bonding, becoming a student who had to learn and be excellent, to work for her own expense, and to have to keep the house that she had found a "husband". to keep! Without anyone ever finding the time to ask me did I feel good about this life? Was I tired?
Then, after finishing school (with a ten-year protected degree and no residency in the fall in five years of school because a perfect student could not stay in the fall), pressure began on when I would become a mother. I had been living together for so many years, my friends had two children. And I got pregnant. I admit, I had flair, insecurity, a thousand questions, but luckily, everything went well ... until I was born.
Four hours after leaving the operating room, I hear: "Guinness, she did the surgery." When after 12 hours of labor pain and after every doctor's consultation, natural birth becomes increasingly difficult. Then I was a bad mom because I didn't have enough willpower to teach my oyster to breastfeed, even though I tried every method. I was a bad mom for not wearing seven pairs of T-shirts, four pairs of socks and two socks in the winter, because I changed it often and used it as a "doll," because I took it to the nursery for ten months because I wanted to get back to work. , because after a year of maternity leave, I dared to ask the oyster's father to keep him an hour to have a coffee alone.
No one ever asked if I was feeling good, if I needed help. For all I was simply doing the job and that a woman becoming a mother closes her life there and is no longer entitled to anything (rights you never had before.) And one day, by chance, I met someone with whom I found the courage to speak openly and to my surprise he did not judge me. It encouraged me to take over the reins of my life and yes, I betrayed my child's father, the "dream husband," the "perfect groom" and for the first time in my life, I did something out of perfect. And I had the courage to admit it, I cried that I was not happy in a marriage in which I lived for the sake of family, in which I was in the shadows, and I had not pursued any of my dreams just because he had his dreams come true. .
I took the liberty to tell myself more, and why painfully, that I would never follow her example in raising my daughter, who will tell her that man learns from mistakes, that experiences grow, that he must live for for themselves and not for cousins, the neighbors tribe.
I'm alone today, I have no support and I'm scared how I will end up with a two-year-old child, renting a home and a call center job and a spouse seeking custody because, according to him, he deserves it. more than me, since I tricked her. But for the first time in my life, this year has liberated me and made me be myself. I was tired of perfect advertising, with embedded smiles.
Maybe I found the wrong way to rebel, but this society leads to extremes, prejudice all the time, and prejudice even when it reaches its peak, and I don't care anymore. I am 30 years old and tomorrow I do not want to say to the girl "I feel it for you and for the sake of society." I do not want to make her feel guilty, I do not want to set an example of submission. It's very difficult, but 2020 will be the beginning of my first decade as myself. It's never too late.
Posted on Anabel's Instagram page. The name has been changed to maintain privacy.
