I love my children, I don’t regret having them and I don’t blame them for anything.
We have had plenty of hard times but plenty of good ones too. Don’t misunderstand what I’m trying to say here.
Everywhere I read about moms excited and fulfilled by having children and raising them and being moms. The best thing they ever did, the sunshine in their days, and I think that’s wonderful. They are so happy with motherhood that there are few things that could bring as much joy to their lives. I get it.
I love my kids and I love having them. I hate ‘mothering’. I am not good at it and I have never found it as fulfilling as what I hear about.
I’m glad that they are young adults now, I just wish they would show the responsibility that is supposed to go along with that. This is the stage I was hoping to find that ‘fulfillment’ that everyone talks about.
So far it’s been more work and more daunting than when they were children.
I don’t resent them, I’m not angry or otherwise upset. You can believe me if you like or make your own assumptions, but its the truth. I just feel tired of all this ‘work’ that feels never-ending and frankly, pointless.
I keep trying and working and teaching and guiding and NOTHING changes. Nothing goes right and nothing gets easier. I don’t often get involved in exercises of futility but in this case I have no choice. It is my responsibility after all.
Between their mental and emotion fragility in some instances due to things beyond any of our control it feels like my hands are tied.
I’m INTJ, it seriously short circuits my brain cells!