The real truth about parenting!

Often times God allows us to struggle through adversity, not to test us…but to bring us closer to Him and the knowledge that “with God all things are possible.”

I went through a moment of blues, depression or whatever you may want to call it. As a human being, we all desire for a better childhood especially if you grew up in poverty. People coming out of poverty also want to give their children a better life. We work at our children never seeing what we saw in life. As a parent, I feel that I didn’t give my best or it wasn’t good enough. I didn’t give them the life they wanted and needed. Growing up, I saw situations and circumstances that scar me for life. It has a lifetime effect on the way you view the world. Your vision of life changes. You’re idea of what hard times are different from others. You become accustom to seeing bad days versus the good. Recently, speaking with an old friend from my childhood who watched me grow from the age of 8 until 18 asked this question. “When are you ever going to get angry at the hand God gave you? I mean, Tamyara, I have known you since a little kid. It is clear you should be insane but you are still smiling. I am aware of what you lived through and how hard it was. Being honest,I expected you to be a fiend out on drugs or lock up in a mental institution. I know what hell you been through and back. Your life was not a fairytale.” My answer was, “Why? My life is just a journey and though not always fair. I can teach people about strength. I can teach about forgiveness and patience to love.” Speaking with my brother we often reminisce about our lives growing up in Brooklyn, New York. We laugh to keep from crying. We make light of our childhood so it won’t hurt as much .The truth is we are pissed off. Though I have forgiven at times I still am angry at the circumstances we had to live in. My siblings are still very much in pain with what we endured as children. I heard it in my brother’s voice, and though he is brave beyond measure that part of our lives he will never forget. He will never admit he is hurting. He wills masked that pain for a lifetime his emotional walls are high and solid.

He is angry because like most we wanted the “American Dream”. For me, I wanted it so bad I dreamt about it wrote about and crave it. That is how bad I wanted it. My brother and I would sit on the kitchen floor watching the roaches and mice run around. He would draw pictures of our dream home with no roaches and mice. Our dream so simple but large in our lives. We dreamt of having our own beds and own room. It seems far fetch but our dream. We talk about living like the people live in upstate New York. In our minds poverty only existed in Brooklyn. When my brother and I share our journey separately people often don’t believe what we’ve been through. When we are in the room together and I tell the same story they mouths usually drop open and the expression on there face this really did happen. We would love to tell the story of never seeing drug abuse, alcoholism, domestic violence, and death. Our sentences often begin with, “if you only knew what our eyes have seen.” A friend of mines once told me that whenever she see pictures of my brother, my sister and me our eyes always look as if they are crying. That may be true we have much to cry for, but at the same time we have much to smile for. My Aunt Cookie was our savior though it all she could really offer was love, a place to sleep, food to eat, and safety. For us at 561 Gates Avenue, apt 4 were home. It was the place we go back to and for that I am grateful. Her wisdom, her lessons in life and stories helped me to remember that we all have journey. We all want to tell a story about our lives. I believe even now with her gone she is still watching over us and protecting her babies. She was the mommy, the best friend and the one who shelter us from the storm. The one lesson she taught me is no single person can raise a child alone. It takes a village. That children will have their own perception of which they hope you could be as a parent. You will never make every child happy. At one point, they will hate you, they will say that they don’t need you. It will always be something you didn’t do right. It is all apart of motherhood. I reflect back because parenting for me wasn’t always my strong suit. In the beginning, I know I didn’t do everything right. I wish I would have and for that I carry that burden. My choices to build a better life always seem to fail because I wanted greatness. In all of pursuit I was looking for happiness,peace and love. I kept every pact never to indulge in drugs and alcohol. To never have a bunch of men around my children and being around the wrong crowd. I can admit relying on help because whenever I look at my friend’s children they had it together. They to me where the experts but even their solutions didn’t fix my family. The problem was deeper rooted and I couldn’t for the life of me understand why I kept jacking parenting up. Whys torture me and destroyed me. What I didn’t realize is how unhealthy it is for your children to see you cry all the time. To allow them to watch you struggle with low-self esteem, abuse and depression. You can’t explain that to your children young or old. They carry that memory in their spirit and some will become angry. Some will even hate you for being weak and not strong as other parents. You have to live with that because there is truth in criticism. They will hate you for not being like every mom in the projects who was much prettier and smarter. They will hate you because you fall short of every other parent. How can you expect them to understand when you are mess boxing with the past. You are mess trying to handling it all and figure why you aren’t normal like every one else. I blame nothing of my journey but on me because as it was said I was weak and not strong enough to make the right decisions. I look back and wonder if it is true about generational curses. I wasn’t stylish, I didn’t always do my hairbecause I felt ugly on the inside. I was never really good at anything but writing. Every time you look in the mirror you didn’t see the beauty in you because in your eyes you are ugly and fat. How can you explain that to anyone especially your children.After 12-hour shifts, diaper changes, arguing, cleaning and etc. Feeling inadequate because you felt your best isn’t good enough. Someday wishing you didn’t exist fighting for one more day because you have to live for your children. Trying not to make the same mistakes as your own mother by using drugs or running from being a parent. You felt weak in every possible way but no one could understand that. You depended on your children’s love to get you through. Yet, it isn’t easy to love a mother who doesn’t love the woman she is. I think back to the days of running from that person, but also trying to escape Tamyara. Escape what many call a generation of curses pass down. Trying to erase all the things that hurt you. Escape your past because it haunts you like a ghost in the night. Trying to find your spot and prove to the world just because you have a large family that you can make it. What I failed to realize is you can’t run from your past. You can hide from it, because in it’s own way it will find you. If you don’t confront it will find a way to rear its ugly head. Starting over by moving praying and thinking this has got be right. Repeatedly, doing that cycle over and again to forget. To get your life right only to end up back where you started make you now believe you are insane. Struggling to meet the ends, dealing with ridicule and so much other stuff you wonder how in the hell you are surviving? I realize that no one will ever get that but God and me. I got a clear understanding of parenting and even of my own mother.Was she going through the same emotions as I? As parents we often make mistakes and we don’t realize how it effects our children. It is not fair nor is it right. Many parents live in regret and usually an apology is too late. I learn to forgive my mother because she wasn’t handed a manual on how to be a parent. That lesson is what I try to teach my siblings. It is just harder for them than me. Maybe because I am a mother. I see her journey through a mother’s eyes and trying to fix your past and raise a family doesn’t mix. I hope my children will forgive my shortcomings and how I fell short as a parent. Forgiveness has to begin with you. You have to forgive yourself for your wrong. It the path to moving forward with your life and making the step to a better future. I have given away all my burdens of the past to God. I have released some much build up pain today and I feel relief. I forgive myself and I am looking ahead. I read the Facebook posts and people vent their pain. They are verbally crying for help and some way to escape from the dark demons of their past. In my time, I didn’t have a public forum to vent.I use to cringe at the thought of speaking about my childhood. I would get angry with my friends for having the best life and family that really cared. It is my truth. If there were a Facebook I would probably have been also posting angry statuses. I wanted their life. I was at onetime so angry with God because of my childhood. Now, I have come to terms I cannot change anything that occur. I cannot hold to my mistakes. I have to move forward and live every moment in love and forgiveness. Now, I understand that every one has a place on this earth. Life may not be the way you dream or pattern. As parents we walk into it as a beginner and the mistakes are just teaching you how to do better. © 2013 Tamyara Brown- Tamluvstowrite

Originally published at www.tamluvstowritegroup.net on January 12, 2013.