Back Seat Parenting: Help NOT Wanted
I hate it when people ask me how I can raise my kids without a father figure in their life. They tell me my son will turn out girly, be gay, or possibly both, like it’s a horrible thing to happen. If my son is gay, I will love and support him no matter what. He is still my child, I won’t turn my back on him. And besides, he does have his grandfather (my step-dad) who teaches some of the manly stuff, like how to pee in the toilet standing up.
*Side note: Though, the first time I sent my son into the men’s bathroom, he came running right back out telling me there were guys peeing on the wall. Guess he doesn’t have urinals in the boys’ bathroom at school. I later had to explain it was a special potty that boys can use when they are older. I’m not sure he believes me. Sometimes I still wonder if he goes into the bathroom and tries to use those special potties now. Not like I can go in and check on his process though.
Anyways, I have spent my children’s whole lives without a man helping me. I’m not even sure how I would handle it if one were to start helping me. I don’t appreciate the busy bodies telling me my children are going to grow up rotten to a core. Just because they never had a father figure doesn’t mean they are going to end up bad. Do these people say these things to women and children who have lost their husbands/fathers?
And besides, while I knew my father, I didn’t really grow up with him in my life all that much. He was there for my childhood, but the very first memory of him is me telling him I loved him and his reply was, “Uh huh.” We were never all that close. I think, partly, he was disappointed I was a girl, rather than a boy.
Soon he started spending all of his time at the playhouse, starring in different plays. I rarely saw him then, and soon realized I preferred that he wasn’t home. It wasn’t long until he just moved out, to live with another woman he met there, and divorced my mom. While I spent weekends with him occasionally, we never really talked.
The final blow was when I found out I was pregnant at the age of nineteen. He pushed me out of his life for good, calling me horrible names in the process. It’s been nearly seven years since I last spoken to him, and while it hurt then, the pain has left me and all I feel for him is nothing.
Besides the out of wedlock pregnancies, I turned out reasonably well. I know others who have lost their fathers either to death or they just walked out of their lives too, and they are all well too. So why is it my kids are going to end up on America’s Most Wanted list? Is my love not enough?
So, to those nosy busy bodies, all I have to say is: Butt the fuck out of my and my kids’ lives. You are not some fairy godmother who can predict the future. How about you worry about your life and your own children. They need you a lot more than me or my kids. You may have your husband’s help now, but you never know what could happen a year or ten from now. (I’m not wishing harm or death on anyone, but just saying. I don’t know the future any better than they do.) If I wanted your help, I would ask for it, but I am not asking, so therefore butt the fuck out now.