Saturday, April 2, 2016


Oddly, Ben a guy I hung out with in college began calling me Mother. For some reason he thought I would be a good mother, "You're  born to be a mother," he'd say. At that point I barely ever had a boy friend, just secret crushes that grew exponentially in my mind. 

This June, I will kiss and hug my youngest son not holding back the ache in my heart. He is the seventh to leave home and embark on adult-things, but not the last. Soon, my mothering will morph into something undefined that will benefit me as a person and my aging children. It is the work I am doing on self-compassion and self-acceptance that has brought me peace.  My mothering has at times been over-bearing, controlling and filled with uncertainty. I have made mistakes, however my kids know they are loved. It has been the enormity of my mother's love for me to help me to realize that I am worthy of love especially self-love. This too is a gift to my children, if they accept it.

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