So I’m a mom. Have been for 23 years and counting, done it a couple of times. My kids (though they don’t like me to call them that anymore because they’re in their 20’s) are awesome! Each of them has qualities that if you combined them would make them a mini-me. But those qualities they’ve adopted are not always the good ones. My son called last night asking what an anxiety attack was like. I tried to describe it but did a much better job this morning when I was holding an attack of my own at bay. I can see traits of perfectionism in each of them. You might be thinking that would be great, and it is, on a good day. On a bad day, it’s over thinking, worrying, second guessing, self depreciating…or maybe that’s just me. That’s the thing, now that I’m in my 40’s, I’ve learned enough about myself to see the ups and downs of my traits. I’d like to say that I always choose the ups, but the truth is I fight those downs too. I think that’s the best we can do. My kids might think I’m crazy but I try to bestow them with this knowledge, so it’s ok if they think I’m crazy. Maybe it’ll save them a little therapy one of these days.
I also look backwards for myself and try to understand how the way I was raised affects how I show up. What I CANNOT STAND is hearing people constantly blaming or citing their childhood as the reason why they act a certain way. In therapy sometimes they call it family of origin issues. Truth is, I got so tired of hearing about family of origin issues and other people trying to blame mine for how I was wired that I checked it. Game over, check mate, see ya later. I think a rebelled a little bit. Yep, I was a child. Yep, my childhood wasn’t like the Waltons. But my childhood was great, in it’s own way. It made me a little quirky and who I am. If I can see the stuff that I need to be aware of, that stuff that triggers me, all the better. But I am not going to sit around in a group and hypothesize about what went wrong, when nothing did. Phew, so that’s how I really feel about that, not that anyone asked. Being a mom makes you think about stuff like that, I mean, understanding yourself so you can try and help your kids apply their skills for good…not evil. Make them mini-me’s 2.0, better versions.