Your
Story Matters.
When I was young I grew up very naively; as I was very certain
about how my life would pan out. I spent hour’s day dreaming about “being grown
up” and free to do just as I pleased; never once realizing that I would be substituting
accountability to parents for accountability to society.
Eventually I did grow up and life happened.
Gloriously,
tragically, amazingly, terrifyingly, recklessly, responsibly, coming at me in
waves with endless pressure to conform and measure up.
I found myself with bills to pay, people to care for and
all sorts of other un-imagined problems to resolve.
Relationships become more complex and challenging. Marriage
and children added to the complexity of these relationships and although I
loved being a mother I was constantly aware of my decisions and how they
affected my children. I wanted to be ‘super
mom’ and I wanted to protect my children from all things negative and
create a safe haven for them to grow up in. I wanted my children to have
unlimited optimism about their futures.
As a home-schooling family, we were isolated during the
week, yet at the same time free to explore and flexible enough to take part in
field trips, art, dance and all sorts of other lessons. We baked, experimented and tested whatever
came to mind.
It was during this extremely busy time that I learned the
value of listening to and reading about other people’s stories. Everyone has a
story and no story is boring or unremarkable. I literally would absorb and soak
in other home schooling families stories, because they “had been there” and
been through the things we were facing.
Their
successes and failures became important to me and I took their advice seriously
because they had the credibility.
Their stories gave me permission to be discouraged and
weary at times. Their stories gave me hope that all would come together in the
end and that my children would grow up to be educated and well-rounded citizens
in their generation. Their stories were real and just as messy as ours.
With hindsight I realize that although many of them will
never know it, they were like cheerleaders standing beside our field, cheering
us on while we muddled through maths lessons, trips to the library, laundry and
quick snacks.
Their stories mattered to us because they dared to share
them.
*Hugs* till next time.
Ariéte
No comments:
Post a Comment