I woke up this morning with the sweet clarity of understanding something that has been on my mind.  I love it when that happens.

Yesterday, on the way to the orthodontist, my daughter said, “Oh mom – I forgot to tell you something…you would have laughed your head off…” then proceeded to tell me about something absurd that happened in her French class.  At the time, I just laughed my head off – as she thought I would – but the whole thing has been hanging out in the back of my mind since then.  I loved that she wanted to tell me something.  Actually, I
loved that I crossed my teenager’s mind at all.  I loved sharing a laugh with my daughter who has become so  independent and busy that I am beginning to feel the hole it will leave when she is off to college.  Such a simple little interaction, but the moment stayed with me for some reason.

As a single parent, it is difficult to cover all the bases and make sure the kids are all fed and clothed and reasonably psychologically healthy.  It might not be pretty – my kids are well aware that we might get lost on the way, forget the water, have to wear a dirty sports jersey – but we usually get to the game on time and I am
usually in the stands cheering them on.   I always wonder if I am doing and being “enough” for them.  But somewhere along the way I think I did one thing right.  Quite by accident it seems.  In my imperfect, haphazard attempt to balance it all – I gave my kids access to my authentic self.

Not that my kids don’t live in fear that this “authentic self” will show itself to their friends in an embarrassing way – like spontaneous dancing or saying something “awkward.”  Of course, that could happen at any minute.  But as I have tried to accept and respect who they are as individuals and find ways to get everyone’s needs met (mine included), they have also had to accept who I am….a parent who is also an imperfect person.  We all get frustrated, we all cry, we need forgiveness, we get stressed, we need help, we need time, we are happy, we get excited and we laugh our heads off.  Each person is different – we are a family but we are not all the same.   We have learned a lot about accepting each other as we are.  Accepting each other requires us to really see each other.

At times, I worry that I have been an inadequate caretaker at best and my daughter is growing up and away from me, probably relating to my ex’s 30 year-old cool girlfriend more than me, and maybe not needing me
anymore.  I know I’m not the only one who worries that the kids will leave for college and never visit me in my nursing home after I have spent my life caring for them.  There’s no way to know if they will want
anything to do with me.  We certainly can’t bully them into caring about us.  There is absolutely no guarantee that our love will be reciprocated.  The real, “felt experience” of being seen and valued in spite of our flaws cannot be manufactured.

It turns out that allowing my kids to see the real, authentic  (completely imperfect) me has turned out to be the best thing I could have done.  The basis of true intimacy is seeing someone clearly and loving them anyway and receiving that in return.  Building intimacy is the closest thing to relationship insurance that there is.  My daughter knows my flaws all too well but she also knows me well enough to know
what would make me laugh my head off.  It made her happy to make me laugh.  I am sure we are in for many more awkward and embarrassing moments when my daughter is mortified by my authentic self, but I think I see the foundation of something good here.  Sharing that laugh made me feel seen and accepted and loved and a little hopeful that we will have a close adult friendship someday.

…but don’t tell my daughter – that would be so awkward and embarrassing!