If I didn't get home and start writing, my head would explode.
That's how I felt today on my drive home from work. I just finished the book "Educated" by Tara Westover last night and it has had a profound effect on me. Very profound. I wasn't expecting that.
I've been into memoirs lately. I've never really enjoyed reading fiction, but I love hearing about other people's lives, true life stories about what they have experienced and how they perceived it and how it changed them. I've read several memoirs, some of which were moving and thought provoking, but none have effected me like this one has and I'd like to discover why.
I didn't think I had anything in common with the author as I read it. Her life was very different from mine. She grew up in rural Idaho in a strict Mormon family. Her parents were radical in their beliefs, which took priority over everything and everyone. They didn't believe in sending their children to school, were paranoid about the government and doctors, and they had very little interaction with the world outside of their farm. She tells about her transformation from the girl she was taught to be and what she was taught to believe (with absolutely no margin to question or change) to learning to think for herself and developing her own beliefs and values. She didn't abandon her childhood entirely, but learned to integrate what she wanted to preserve with new ideas and values that she chose for herself.
I can relate to that process immensely, but I will get into that more later on.
What is most profound to me right now is what I've realized about my kids. Their process of wanting to break free from their upbringing and define themselves on their own terms is natural, and something we all have done. But I wasn't quite prepared for how it would make me feel.
The most profound change has been with my first born. We aren't as close as I yearn to be, as we used to be. I miss him and my heart physically hurts sometimes because I sometimes feel like I've lost him. I haven't seen him since our family Christmas and actually for several years he has made it clear that he really doesn't want to be here in our home, hanging out with the family, or with me. He feels different from us, and in some ways doesn't feel accepted. He thinks I keep trying to press him into the mold that I want him to fit into, the child he used to be. I have rejected his idea that I have been doing this, but after reading this book and listening to some interviews with the author, I realize...I think I have in fact been doing that. On some level anyway. Not nearly to the extent that the author experienced, but I can see a glimmer from my son's perspective why he would feel that way.
I've had ideas of who he is, or who he should be in my eyes, since he was born. They don't necessarily match who he is or wants to be for himself. He has felt it, more than I knew. I didn't even realize I was doing it to him. I tried to raise my kids to be who they truly are . . . but through the lens of who I thought they should be, I guess.
Of course I raised them to have the values that were important to me. I think we all do that as parents, by the way. We can't help it and I really do think that's how it should be, to a certain extent. I raised my kids to be kind, loving, responsible, empathetic, to be able to express their thoughts and emotions, to respect authority, and for me...the MOST important thing I wanted to instill in all of our kids, was faith in God and acceptance of Jesus as their Savior. None of those things are wrong or bad for a parent to want for their children and I don't regret trying to instill these values in my kids at all.
What I do regret, looking back, are the things that I didn't see.
