Does Wanting Romantic Love Make Me a Bad Mother?
I believe the best pieces my kids will get of me were born from some of the hardest things I’ve lived through. Maybe heartbreak is one of those.
Does my pursuit of romantic love make me a bad mother? Valentines Day, single, after leaving my marriage, can certainly be a fucking brain bender.
I’ve not spent a single Valentines Day since leaving NOT single, btw. Last year I thought I wasn’t single, but that guy literally ghosted me on Valentines Day.
Everyone is so broken.
Why do I continue to pursue romantic love, knowing every single time, except when it’s finally not, I’ll be left all alone with my messy emotions, in addition to the tremendous guilt that sometimes those messy emotions spill over to my kids?
Listen, emotions are sticky, even when you work hard to keep them in their proper containers, trying to only feel them when everyone else is safe from you. I don’t talk to my kids about my relationships or heartbreaks. That’s not it. I just… well, I’m a human. My heartbreaks can look like distraction and exhaustion, and a really low tolerance for loud noises and wrestling matches, among other annoyances.
The driving force behind leaving was to give my kids a more whole, more vulnerable, and more alive mother. And shouldn’t I be able to be that all on my own? Shouldn’t I be able to not want romantic love? Shouldn’t my love for my kids be enough? Shouldn’t my love for myself?
I’m working on dissecting societal bullshit from my personal truth. I know that this isn’t an all or nothing thing. I know the answer doesn’t exist with either completely abandoning romance OR relentlessly pursuing it. I also know it’s not about balancing the two, but about letting myself flow back and forth.
Knowing and feeling are two different things, though.
If you’re nodding in agreement or commiseration at this point, and you haven’t yet watched the Pamela Anderson doc on Netflix, please do that immediately. I had no idea how badly I needed to see her tell her own story. I had no idea how badly I needed to see her sons’ love for all of her- her motherhood, her womanhood, her sticky emotions, her mistakes, and her love for them.
Love addicts get a bad rap, maybe. Sure, the desperation of the hunt can lead to bad choices. I’m not condoning that. But, you know, humans are going to human. We make bad choices when we’re hungry, too.
I believe the best pieces my kids will get of me were born from some of the hardest things I’ve lived through. Not the tales of achievements, but the memories of watching me rebuild. Not the perfect photos, but the stories of my failures. Not the sacrificial martyr kind of love, but the love that shows up alongside other sticky emotions.
I know my kids are going to get more from an optimistic mother who sometimes nurses a broken heart than they would have from a resigned mother who forgot how big and beautiful her heart could shine.
I know that.
I’m starting to feel it, too.
I see this more like you are showing your kids how to be a real person, with wants and needs. I am not a fan of the martyr mother syndrome, whether married or single. I can totally understand a single parent who says, "I don't have time or energy or interest in dating." That's fine. But I don't think it's necessarily healthy to deny oneself "for the kids." Self-care isn't just bubble baths. It's an underlying belief, "My needs matter." So whether it's dating or roller derby or an ambitious career or a social network, I think it's perfectly appropriate for a parent to have their own 'thing' outside of parenthood. That's it is actually BETTER for kids to see that they are *not* the end-all, be-all, that parents have a life. Because you know what? They are going to be adults for far more time than they are going to be children, so it's great for them to see how an adult can lovingly & thoughtfully balance their own needs with their kids needs, and probably make some mistakes sometimes or overbalance one way or the other, but that's all part of the journey.