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Do I need to be a mom?
I couldn’t help but burst out laughing when my sleepy-eyed nephew, instead of heading straight to the bathroom as instructed, stopped to straighten the askew yoga mat on the floor.
“Iski OCD trigger hui,” his mom said, watching his little hands carefully aligning the corners. (his OCD got triggered)
In that moment, I saw myself in him — that same need for order, that same attention to detail. Nature and nurture working in perfect harmony. He shares my genes and spends countless hours by my side, absorbing my quirks and peculiarities.
As my sister-in-law finally guided him toward the bathroom, she glanced back with a knowing smile. “Bua ki OCD mili hai,” she said. (he has inherited aunt’s OCD)
I’m not a mother, but in these small moments, I see the pieces of my soul I’m passing down to him. Some legacies don’t require parenthood — just love and presence.
