Every evening, as we dim the lights, my son starts to share his feelings with me. This kid, who usually seems so cool with his eye-rolling and obsession with video games, sheds his tough exterior and opens up about his biggest fears and secrets.
He’s just like me in so many ways: he feels everything deeply, and every little thing touches him. He’s intense and sensitive, and in my eyes, he’s utterly amazing. Yet, I see the struggles he faces. When he expresses worry about his math test or the hope he holds for a solo in the school concert, I know he’s feeling those emotions on a visceral level.
When he talks about his desire to stay 9 years and 9 months old forever, I feel the same ache as I watch him grow up, time slipping away too quickly. I understand that his feelings are normal, but I wish I could take all those sad moments away. I want to grant him every wish and keep him at this perfect age indefinitely.
But the truth is, I can’t. I remind him nightly that I can’t control every aspect of his life and that sometimes, he won’t get what he desires. I joke about wishing I had a time machine, but deep down, I know it’s impossible.
As parents, we lack the ability to alter the flow of time or shield our children from all the painful experiences they’ll face. While we want to fix their hurts, sometimes we simply can’t. When our kids complain of a tummy ache, our instinct is to take that pain away. If they’re hurt by someone, we want to defend them fiercely, but the reality is we can’t always protect them from life’s hardships.
As they grow, our sense of control over their suffering diminishes, and the weight of that powerlessness can be overwhelming. Watching them venture into the world is like watching a piece of your heart walk away from you.
No one prepared me for how challenging this aspect of parenting would be. Sometimes I wish I could whisk my kids away to a distant island, shielded from the harsh realities of life. I want to spare them from heartache, cruelty, and disappointment.
However, I’ve come to realize that my main role as a parent isn’t to eliminate their sadness but to help them navigate it. My job is to teach them how to cope with their emotions — to feel, process, and eventually release them. This requires me to be strong and brave, to work through my own feelings, and to accept the things I cannot control. And I must instill this understanding in my children as well.
With my older son, it’s particularly challenging because he mirrors my sensitivity. He shares thoughts with me that he wouldn’t reveal to anyone else, and sometimes I wonder if my emotional reactions to his struggles hinder my ability to support him. But as a mom, his pain resonates with me; I can’t help but feel it deeply. So, I’ll continue to sit with him in the dark, allowing him to express himself and reassuring him that everything will be alright.
Even so, I can’t help but wish for a way to sweep away all the difficulties, to remove any negativity and disappointments from his life. And if anyone happens to have a time machine, I’d love to borrow it!
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In summary, while I can’t shield my children from every sorrow, I can guide them in managing their emotions and teach them resilience. It’s a journey of learning to embrace both the joys and pains of life together.