Seeking Self, Part II

I guess what I have to admit to myself that what doesn’t change, no matter how much I fight it--no matter how much I educate myself, no matter how good I am at my job, no matter what I do--I am a parent. I am the parent that keeps my boys alive. 

Part of me still wants this to be different--for it to be a facet of my life--not the purpose. But what else can it be? How can I care for my children as completely and thoroughly as they need and it not become the biggest part of myself? 

I have known this to be true for a very long time. And I have resented it. I am too young to just be a mother. And so I do so many other things. I go to school. I work. I make friends. I have a book club. I travel. I try to prove that I am a person. 

I get the response, “Wow, you (fill in the blank) and you’re a single-mom too?” I amaze them. 

But I am never satisfied. I resent the purpose, though I am driven to provide the utmost care for my boys. I want to be seen. To been seen for more than just doing things in spite of doing them while hauling my kids around behind me. 

Nevertheless this puzzle of a life I live is incomplete when my boys are gone. They anchor me. So the resentment builds. I want to feel OK when they are removed from the equation. I want to know what to do with myself. I want to know what I want to do with myself. 

I don’t know if this is an unrealistic wish. Can I ever separate myself from them? I don’t know how I feel about either way that question can be answered.