When Children Become Adults
My childhood feels like a lifetime ago. Though I am only newly an adult, I was 'adulting' long before I became legal. This isn't to say I didn't have an idyllic childhood in many ways because I did. However, the moments that weren't idyllic were deeply impactful, hurtful and significant. My childhood shaped the adult I have become today. Would I change the past if I could? I guess you'll have to read and find out for yourself, Dolls!
One home in one place with one family was the only place I'd ever wanted to be but it was something I never had. My biological parents didn't marry and they split almost the moment I was born. For as long as I could remember, every second weekend was spent packing an overnight bag and travelling two hours to visit Dad. Having two single parents wasn't any less easy on them than it was on me. Neither of them had much money or support and although I loved my life, I felt the stress that came with being a single parent, especially from my Mum. I lived with her the majority of the time and it was she who raised me, not my Dad. She bought me my school clothes, she paid our rent, she took me to the doctor, she cooked us dinner and she picked me up every time I came home crying. Having single parents, I saw what true love was with how they were with me, not with how they were with each other. They hated each other. And I was privy to a lot of their anger, spite and resentment. None of my friends' parents were divorced and as a result, I often felt isolated. Unlike them, I wasn't fantasising about my wedding or dreaming of falling in love. Unlike them, my biggest problem of the day wasn't if Mum or Dad would pick me up from school. A good day was when Mum would finish work early and I didn't have to go to after-school care. A good day was when Mum could afford to give me a canteen lunch like my friends got every day. A good day was when I had a Dad who made me feel like he wanted to be my Dad. A good day was when Mum and Dad could stand to be in a room together. The life I have now is the life I wanted as a little girl. My Mum married, we live in a house, we have a dog, we drive a nice car. It's simple but it's the simple that was once my fantasy. Having single parents taught me the value of money from an early age. Having single parents showed me that in the real world, there aren't always Disney happily-ever-afters. If I were to change anything, it would be that my Mum met who I call Dad now earlier than when she did. I spent many years hoping my biological Dad would become her Prince Charming but I can see now, that he was never supposed to be her PC... my now Dad was. In hindsight, I'm grateful Mum and I spent so many years being the only two people who mattered to one another because we got to know each other in a way that most mothers never get to know their children. I'm grateful for the life I have now because if I didn't experience my old life, I wouldn't savour the one I have now.
I suffered throughout schooling because in many ways, my family dynamic caused me to be an outcast. Their families consisted of married parents, siblings, grandparents and the family dog. My entire family was my Mum. I'd grown up in a way that many of them hadn't and as a result, I was mature in the sense that I didn't like gossip, I didn't like exclusion and I didn't like fairytales. Part of the reason I loved my Mum so much was because she never treated me like I was a child. She spoke to me like I was one of her friends because I was. We'd go on all of these incredible adventures together; dancing together at jazz clubs, singing at the top of our lungs to Missy Higgins and The Cure, going to Vivid before Vivid was Vivid and having interpretive dance off's in our living room. She'd take me wherever she went which meant that I spent most of my childhood in a room of adults, discussing politics, fine arts, morals, pop culture and relationships. I spent a lot of primary school being bullied. I spent a lot of primary school just wanting to be with my Mum because it was the only place I felt understood, safe and accepted. In the thick of it all, I didn't have this reflective perspective and being bullied was really difficult. Making friends was a piece of cake because I was kind, generous and warm. It was just that I couldn't maintain the friendships because once the petty games began, I lost interest. I didn't have a future planned for myself that involved marriage and lots of babies just because I had a crush. I didn't want to talk about how ugly Matilda's hair looked today because to me, it wasn't fun to make fun of people. I didn't want to spend a day being awful to Ruby just for the hell of it. What really got me in trouble was the fact that if somebody was being treated unfairly, I was going to speak up about it. I was a voice for those that didn't know how to use theirs. Sometimes, I would come home crying, completely and utterly perplexed as to why young girls were so unequivocally, unnecessarily mean, whether it was to me or somebody else. There were moments of desperation when I wanted to change who I was in an attempt to fit in but any time that I began to change my beliefs, values or morals, I didn't like who I became. Although enduring it was brutal, I'm proud of the fact that in the end, I didn't lose myself. My sense of self always ended up triumphing the anguish that I had to belong. As an adult, I've found the friends along the way who share my heart and soul. I've also found the family who would never want to change a thing about me. In some ways, I wish I could've skipped past high school and gone straight to the part where I was surrounded by the mature adults I always felt I was. But if I hadn't have gone through bullying, I wouldn't know just how wonderful a true friend is, I wouldn't know how much I love non-degrading conversation and I wouldn't have developed so confidently into myself.
Due to my parent's relationship status, I spent childhood growing up in multiple homes. My biological Dad sold his house in the blue mountains and ended up renting various homes over the years that were closer to me in Sydney. Often, it was a different home a few times a year. Homes with my mother were more stable but even then, we rented and our owners often ended up kicking us out. In addition to him, Mum and I moved every 2-3 years. As a result, I knew that there wasn't any point in relishing in a breath of air when it didn't last. Unintentionally, I tried to not get too attached to the homes I lived in. Intentionally, I learnt that the promises that my biological Dad sold me of living in a house with a picket white fence and a chocolate Labrador dog was simply another one of the false promises he made. I didn't have a strong sense of security and as a result, I didn't always feel safe, care-free or trusting. I think it made me a hesitant and fearful person. I became afraid within the words of others because often, they weren't true. Throughout this process, I longed to be like my friends. I longed for two parents. I longed for a big home. But it was because of my upbringing that making a decision to be away from home wasn't a daunting one. And so I left. At fifteen I moved across the world from my mother and father to be with my biological father and step mother. And it became one of my strongest childhood memories today, mostly to my detriment. Majority of the moments felt excruciating, unbearable and horrific. I still feel disturbed by the events that unfolded in my time away and I still grieve a period of time that now, feels stolen. I don't actively regret it but I definitely wonder how my life would've been different if I hadn't have left.
I had a biological Dad, one who was my everything one day and one who scared me the next. He was temperamental at the best of times, often fairly uninvolved, missing in action or travelling abroad. I didn't necessarily feel that way about him at the time but when I spoke to other adults about how I felt, I received the insight that he wasn't the amazing, shiny person every little girl thinks their daddy is. It didn't matter what anybody else said because some things you have to learn for yourself. When my Mum fell in love with Drew, everything changed. He was this strong, smart, exceptionally kind person and when he became a part of my life, I saw the world in colour. Suddenly, I had a father figure who I could really trust, somebody who always showed up for me and never let me down. My Mum and step father had a whirlwind romance, the kind in picture books that I'd spent countless hours of childhood wishing for my Mum to have. As they fell in love, My step dad and I became close beyond words. He rightfully and earnestly became the person I considered 'Dad' and when I became legal, the relationship between my biological Dad and I ceased. The love between my now Dad and I was remarkably impactful. He taught me that in some cases, we choose our family. Just as he chose me, I chose him. Without this event in my upbringing, I know that I wouldn't be as knowledgable as to how a real man treats a woman. I imagine I would have a lower self-worth than I already do because not a day goes by when my Dad doesn't make me feel important, worthy, accepted and cherished. To date, his involvement in my life is one of my fondest, most beautiful memories.
When children become adults, there is fear and struggle, but alongside that exists opportunity and experience. The moment it happens isn't always a line in the sand, often it occurs over some time and you wake up one day and think to yourself 'Fuck, I made it out the other side.' What do I say to this, Dolls? I say that life is complicatedly and exquisitely imperfect in the best of ways.
Kisses,
COS x
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