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💫 My Dream: Not to Do to My Children What My Mum Did to Me
Published about 1 year ago • 2 min read
I still remember vividly: one day, I was mad at my mum. She didn’t let me go to a birthday party, the first in Year Eight.
My world collapsed.
The next day, my mum went to the hospital.
Four days later, she was gone forever.
And I, age 14, was left to learn what it means when your entire world irreversibly collapses.
Today, I’m 46.
I have three children.
I miss her every day.
Half of my heart is still empty, although it’s full of love.
I feel loved, respected, nurtured, and cherished by my kids and my husband. Growing up, I also felt love from my father and brother and from friends and family.
Still, nothing could replace her.
Children shouldn’t grow up without their parents.
I felt, and I still feel, like one big part of my body and an enormous part of my soul is missing.
Still, it is full of love for her.
Still, I cry often. Imagine how my life would look different, how my kids would have a grandmother. They never had any. My husband’s mum also died very young.
I was so mad.
Mad at her.
At God.
At destiny.
I spent countless hours trying to find answers.
Why did she leave me?
How was that possible?
How could I, a teen, be a mum to my younger brother, who was eight at the time…
Later, I had been trying to stitch some patch on my broken heart.
Nothing worked.
Every cloud has a silver lining.
I know.
My painful teen years and upbringing without mum’s love in a civil war-torn country under bombs and sanctions have some advantages, after all.
I grew up to become a strong, independent, strong-willed and incredibly persistent woman.
But it’s fucking brutal.
It’s exhausting not having your tree to hide under.
Your roots to hold on.
I have them: my husband and my three beautiful children. They’re my strength, my love, and my dopamine.
But they’re not my mum.
It didn’t hit me so hard until I turned 40. My mum died at age 41.
So, suddenly, I became painfully aware of my mortality.
My brain played games with me. My fears rocketed.
“I have an unfinished job.”
I’d say to God.
My kids are 13, 10 and seven.
They need me.
I don’t want to die young
So, the decision has been made.
I wasn’t aware of that fully before one conversation with my new personal trainer happened a few years ago.
I had been exercising for years.
Eating fairly well and healthy.
Having normal weight.
Going regularly to health checks.
“ Why do you exercise?”
She asked me.
Not to be the hottest 40-year-old.
Or to be skinny.
It’s to be healthy for my kids.
That’s my primary motivation.
I would do anything in my power to stay healthy and sane and live long enough to see them as happy, fulfilled adults, without childhood emotional wounds.
Yes, I have a big dream: to grow old and see them grow up.
I’m a girl of many dreams. But there is one dream that gives me a completely different purpose:
I want to grow old with my children.
I will be there for them as long as they need me.
To die wrinkled, full of experience, taking with me all the precious memories we made together.
They’d be sad even then.
But they wouldn’t be devastated. The world won’t collapse.
And that’s the dream worth chasing.
My mum holding me as a baby.
Dear friends, this is not a story about me losing my mum. It's a story that connects to all people who want to stay healthy and exercise for their kids.
Because stories are the most important sales tool humans can possibly have.
Send a reply and tell me:
Have this story touched you?
Would you like to learn how to write with heart so you can touch other people hearts?
Marketing strategists focused on content that sells with heart, connecting all content marketing puzzles for entrepreneurs so that they can save time and work on their business. Join 490 other time-poor entrepreneurs who use my best tips to grow their businesses through content. BONUS: free Notion Content Calendar and 30+ free Chat GPT prompts for your content marketing.