I switched off her desk lamp, turned to her closet with intent to shut its door and she said, “Leave it open. It helps me to
dream.”
I was well aware of her obsession with fashion and her
dreams of having a walk in closet the size of our small old house. Without comment, I left the
door to her dreams open and sat next to her on her bed. I was smiling and ready for our nightly talk.
I listened as she recounted her recent birthday trip to New York City. She described each
Manhattan neighborhood. SoHo was not what she expected, Chelsea was full of
energy, Times Square was unreal, and Little Italy was crowded due to the number in
attendance for the street fair. However, one neighborhood was just right.
She said, “the Upper East Side was everything I pictured New York City to be.”
I was in agreement that the Upper East was lovely. I added that it had one drawback--exclusivity.
Her eyes opened wide, and she said, “But I want that. Not for the wrong reasons. Mom, I can just see myself living there. Dressing up my kids in cute little school
uniforms, getting them into a cab. I am
wearing my Burberry coat neatly tied around my waist. And everything is just perfect. A great apartment. Everything.”
I searched for
words that would not sound judgmental, but would point out my concern. I gently put my hand on her blanket-covered belly and patted it as I said, “It’s what’s in
here that determines your happiness. Don’t
ever forget that.”
She said, “I know. Mom,
you aren’t going to cry are you? You
look like you are going to cry.”
I held back my tears and smiled. I kissed her on the forehead
and wished her pleasant dreams and a well-deserved rest.
As I continued my nightly routine of emptying the dishwasher and folding laundry, I clung to her words. I searched for the source of the tears she witnessed filling my eyes. I looked around our tiny house and noticed the scratched wood floors, the chipped baseboards, and the water-spotted ceiling. I was reminded that that I could not afford a plumber. My body went down with a plop to the couch--the couch I bought 13 years ago. It was old. I cried.
Was I wrong to desire authenticity and divorce her dad? In doing so, I destroyed her happiness. Was she trying to recapture a time of contentment, a time she understood, by creating a picture-perfect life for herself in the future?
Later, as I tried to put myself to sleep, I saw a time when I will not be close enough to tuck her into bed. I will not be there to listen to her dreams. I will not be able to comfort her the moment when she realizes the storybooks got it wrong.
Her fantasy on the Upper East Side paralleled life before I divorced her dad: a lovely home at the end of a cul-de-sac, a pool, and daily commutes to a private school. The impression of her smiling mom and dad was burned into her
heart. She was not an
outsider gazing upon a smokescreen. For her, the
vision was real.
Later, as I tried to put myself to sleep, I saw a time when I will not be close enough to tuck her into bed. I will not be there to listen to her dreams. I will not be able to comfort her the moment when she realizes the storybooks got it wrong.
photo credit: jamelah via photopin cc
That's some powerfully honest conversations you are having with a teen, so comfort yourself with that knowledge. And I don't believe you ruined her happiness by finding the best possible life for yourself. I think it's hard when the dreams we have for our kids differ from the ones they have for themselves. This post definitely lives up to the "fearless examination" you promise. Love this piece. Erin
ReplyDeleteThis one took a while. I started it last week for yeah write #48. Your words are felt and actually made me a bit dizzy, in a good way. Thank you.
DeleteI just wanted you to know that I read your piece, too, and I am sending you a cyber hug. Your post choked me up. And I second Erin's comment. Ellen
DeleteI feel and appreciate the hug. And I am grateful you let me know that you read it, too. Thank you.
DeleteHoly cow, that was amazing. I hope that I will be able to have that kind of a conversation with my daughter when she's older. I cannot even tell you how much I admire you for the decisions you made in a quest for authenticity. Without it everything is seen through rose colored glasses and nothing feels real. I felt this piece to my very soul Kimberly. Great job.
ReplyDeleteWonderful post. I divorced a very wealthy man and walked away with nothing but here's what I have now to go along with ancient furniture, small house and breaking-down vehicle: a peaceful home, a happy, solid marriage of almost-six years, and two kids who know that money isn't everything. Stay the course!
ReplyDeleteI forgot to mention the car. ;) Thanks for your encouragement. Staying the course is easier knowing that there are others doing the same.
DeleteI am totally crying over the honesty and tough feelings in this post. Very powerful words and emotions behind it.
ReplyDeleteI love your desire for authenticity and, even though I know divorce is hard on children, I think you're being too hard on yourself when you say you destroyed her happiness. You're right beside her, listening to her, not judging her, engaged in her story, and at the same time you're showing her what it looks like to demand REAL happiness, and real depth, from this world. You're teaching her how to be strong.
ReplyDeleteOh Kimberly that was so beautiful!! The thing is, she CAN have that. She's getting and will continue to get the skills to afford her the job or to meet the man that will help her to have all that she dreams of. Leaving our exes was the best choice we could make for us and for our children. They need to learn that happiness needn't be forced or faked. As I type this on my beat-up couch literally falling to pieces all over the floor of my rented home I know with utmost certainty that I wouldn't change a thing.
ReplyDeleteGrowing up sucks. When I found out I was having a little girl (2nd pregnancy/only girl) I cried and cried because she would have her heartbroken someday. She wasn't even born yet and I cried because a boy would break her heart. My husband thought I was crazy.
ReplyDeleteI love this post. It really makes me remember when I thought fairy tales were real . . .
This really touched me, so beautifully written. I have been through some of those doubts as well. I don't believe you ruined your daughters happiness. I have known people that have stayed in bad, unhappy marriages because of money or security and they - and their children - are usually miserable. So much better to have truth, real relationships and love. Every post I read echos how much your daughters are loved, this will help them so much more than a fancy apartment in NYC.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, honest post. I divorced when my kids were young, and though I know the life I live now and the woman that I am now are better examples for them as they grow, I will never stop wondering what damage may also have been done.
ReplyDeletethis is a lovely post and a touching story. there are so many times i look back at the choices i make and wonder how our lives would have been different had we chosen otherwise. to choose authenticity, honesty and bravery is setting a wonderful example for your daughter, and she's lucky to have you as a mom.
ReplyDeleteKimberly, my heart goes out to you. The guilt that comes with parenthood sucks. We do everything we can to take care of ourselves and our children. Like an oxygen mask on a plane, you need to make sure you are breathing before you try to save your children.
ReplyDeleteWe all have dreams, and many fully believe money, fashion and a fancy lifestyle will bring happiness. Alas, happiness comes from within - a tough lesson, but a lesson nonetheless.
I am grateful for your honest and transparent post. Well done, Mom.
"In doing so, I destroyed her happiness." Those words hit me hard. This is a very brave post. It sounds like a time will come where your daughter will understand your choices. As a child who lived in poverty so that we would have safety, it took me a long time to get it. To understand why my mom stayed when she did and why she left my father when she did. I don't think most children can understand the magnitude of the decisions their parents make for them, even if they are intuitive, mature and have all the facts. Someday she will know and understand and it's a long road to get there. You did what you thought was right - take comfort in that.
ReplyDeleteEveryone I know who grew up with divorce said (after a few years for clarity) that they were so glad their parents separated. It was better than the constant fighting or just deadness.
ReplyDeleteAnd I think all kids have those kinds of dreams. Hell, every time I've been to an exotic locale (or even just not present place), I've decided it was perfect for living and boy do I wish I could live here! Personally, when it comes to NYC, I'm not into the UES. I prefer Brooklyn. ;)
This was a great post, a brave post. As a mom to a daughter who divorced her father I have many moments where I wonder what I need to say or do to make up for the situation. Hang in there.
ReplyDeleteYou've got me crying. What a perfectly accurate depiction of my own heart. Love.
ReplyDeleteComing from your child's perspective, she IS learning that the storybooks got it wrong. With every day you spend with her, you're showing her what is truly important, and she will carry that with her. It's a slow process, and she will have some missteps (I know I did), but trust me when I tell you you're making a very lasting impression on your child. You didn't destroy her happiness; you are teaching her what true happiness is. Love & hugs.
ReplyDeleteHi Sperk. Very heartfelt post. I can only imagine how difficult it is hearing your daughter envision those things. I don't think you destroyed her happiness. By your example she sees you making a life for yourself. She'll be a better person for it, watching you. To stay in an unhappy marriage so she can have a Burberry coat isn't really an option. I imagine as she matures and becomes self-sufficient she will say thank you for that. Beautiful post.
ReplyDeleteOh jeez. This was a raw post, revealing your mother's heart kind of way that I so related to. I'm sorry you had to go through all that. Don't waste another second doubting your decision to leave for authenticity. Now - where is she getting this picture of Manhattan? It must be coming from somewhere. I would maybe find out its origin (you probably already know where it is coming from) and nip it in the bud as it will only grow bigger and consume you. Lead her in another direction, somehow. Help her to find her own real Manhattan in your neighborhood - maybe take her into a high-end fashion store and talk to the owner about one day having an after school job as her stylist assisant or whatever - just try to hook her little dreams onto a nearby place so she can appreciate what you all have now. I have done dastardly things such as shown my child a video of something that might have the end result of putting them off. (-: I don't know...some kind of real-world lesson that shows her that the grass is really greener where she is now.
ReplyDeleteGreat insight, Ado. Definitely looking into some of the ideas you propose. Thanks so much. I am grateful
DeleteThis is such a beautifully written post. I truly feel for you, and understand you worries and fears for your daughter. My parents divorced when I was 19 (and adult by many standards—including my father's), and up until that point my dreams were to be just like my parents—creating a life with someone, having a career, children, doing it together. When they divorced, I SWORE I would never get married. I no longer believed in love, or at least not the kind that lasts forever. A few years later, I met my future-husband and I realized that I could learn from the lessons of my parents about what works and what doesn't. I could be happy, but by building my own life, not trying to relive theirs. I've been with him for 15 years now, and I struggle with still giving my daughter the type of honesty which I think I would have liked to have at 19—relationships are hard and you need to keep working at them to make them work. Your daughter's dreams may come from something in the past, but as she grows up, she will truly define them for herself—especially since she has SUCH a thoughtful and honest mother. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThis is really great, insightful, and honest post. I have so often felt since my divorce that poverty has stood in the way of providing. Usually not for long, because I think I (and, from what I can read, you)do a damn good job of seaparating material from meaninful for my kiddo, but it's still tough.
ReplyDeleteThe honesty of this post hit me Kimberly, not only through your daughter's perception of perfection but also your own feelings on your divorce.
ReplyDeleteWho knows, Kimberly, if her dreams of an Upper East side future we perpetuated because of her childhood or the influence of the media. Gossip Girl's wardrobe and scenery alone makes me long for such a life!
Gorgeous post. Honest writing. Beautifully put. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteOh Kim. I often wonder how much my son would resent me if his dad and I ever chose to part ways. But as much as it is a cliche, as long as we are together... Love your writing.
ReplyDeleteMy mother finally left my father when I was in college. She told me she stayed so long for me. I felt guilty for causing her to live so many years in an unhappy marriage.
ReplyDeleteSometimes the storybooks get it wrong... but sometimes they get it right. By choosing to be true to yourself, you're probably teaching her that when the storybooks get it wrong, you can pursue a different ending.