But… Where to Begin?
I struggle sometimes to find the words to describe the simultaneous feelings I have about this subject. Those being: wanting to be a parent, yet not wanting to physically birth children, and the fact that I’m quite happily a married woman in a same-sex relationship.
I’ve known all three of these things for a long time. From an early age, I knew I wanted to have kids and a family. I was probably around 13 or so when I began to realize there was something just “different” about me in the way I thought about boys, girls, and relationships. And I was sitting in 9th grade health class when I realized childbirth? Was maybe–most likely–not for me.
I want to be a parent. I feel like I have a lot of love to give to a child and the desire to help bring up a little good in the world. But these things conflict from time-to-time, don’t they? Not to mention my latest fears of not being “parenty” enough to be a parent… Or (for that matter) adult enough to be an adult. But here we are… Adulting (somehow). And maybe just figuring it out as we go. And maybe parenting is a bit the same way.
As my sister told me recently: “[Being a parent] is kind of like being a professional person. Sometimes at work I’m like I cried yesterday because I ran out of cake but let me help you with your problems!”
Maybe there’s some truth to that. It made sense to me. Because, let’s be real, how are we supposed to be a parents when our own lives have the potential to cause these mini-breakdowns every so often?? It’s the same story as being a real-life adult. Sometimes you just do it, and sometimes you cry because you ran out of cake, or because tomorrow’s Monday and you just don’t wanna. But somehow it all works out. Mostly.