I grew up so fast I didn’t make all the mistakes I should have. I’m making them now, as an adult, and paying interest. That’s why I do my best to notice the impulse when I want to fix something for my child. The mistakes are his, not mine to fix.
I inherited the worship; I never knew what it cost
I’ve been chasing money my whole life. Safety, freedom, the resources to handle whatever comes. I thought that was just who I was. But my grandparents fled China during the communist takeover. They survived because they had something to exchange and a network that came through when it was needed. I didn’t inherit greed. I inherited the memory of what happens when you’re forced to flee and start over with very little.
Not every belief you carry belongs to you
Something surfaced during bodywork – no one cares, it doesn’t matter, it can all be taken away. I sat with it. It felt old. Older than me. The beliefs weren’t developed. They were inherited. They just feel like mine because I’ve been carrying them so long.
I give in to him so he doesn’t feel what I felt
I give in to R more than I probably should. I know that. But I know why too – I don’t want him to feel the lack I felt. The longing for things just out of reach. The sense that wanting is wrong. I’m not spoiling him. I’m trying to rewrite something but I’m writing it from inside the same wound and I’m probably still programing him with lack.
I’ve always been wanty and impatient
I stole a quarter from a church coffee basket to buy a mouse pin. I was maybe seven. I wanted it. My parents weren’t around, and I couldn’t wait. They’d have probably said no if I had asked. I’ve spent a lot of years being ashamed of that wanting. But the wanting was never the problem. Learning early that desire leads to rejection – that’s where the shame came from. I didn’t steal because I was bad. I stole because I already knew the answer was no.
The shame was never mine to begin with
I spend money on things that are beautiful. It makes me feel good. But I do it quietly – because a responsible person doesn’t spend money on beauty. The shame around money was handed to me by people whose approval I spent years trying to earn. I still feel judged when they see my things. I still hide my purchases from them. The hardest part isn’t that they handed it to me. It’s that I’m still the one carrying it.
You can’t give what you don’t yet fully have
I’ve learned to cultivate peace for myself. But when I try to teach it to my son, I can see it beginning to break down. It is hard to teach what I only just barely understand. The transmission only works when the source is steady.
On knowing when to let go
R asked me to come into his piano lesson, then forgot to ask his teacher. Again. I told myself it meant he didn’t need me there. But he’s seven. Maybe he does want me there and just doesn’t know how to ask. Maybe the forgetting isn’t an answer – it’s its own kind of asking. I don’t know when to let go. I’m not sure anyone does.