Before I became a mother, I was disgusted by the thought of being dirty. I hated yard work, exercising or anything else that would make me sweat or otherwise feel like I needed another shower. I was very concerned with remaining clean, even if that meant taking multiple showers a day. It was ridiculous honestly.
Now, I am a mother to not one, but two very rambunctious, very outgoing boys. My boys also happen to like one thing..getting dirty; and finding any possible source to require a trip to the tub, immersed in warm, soapy bubbles. Today, my two boys managed to use an ordinary frosted doughnut as their weapon of choice, decorating their bodies from the blond tufts of hair on their heads to their long toes with frosted delight. As I supervised their bubble induced play, I began to think to myself that these moments with these children were what I was destined for.
I remember, before motherhood, thinking to myself that I would never get married. My father had created a legacy of distrust upon which I would measure every potential romantic partner, in the process choosing the wrong men for me . I would always find myself disappointed in the relationship, longing for reassurance and affection that my partner would never be able to offer.
Yet, when involved in any type of social interaction, including befriending others, I discovered that I would gravitate towards males, as I seemed to have an easier time relating to them than to my female counterparts. The juxtaposition of these facts was baffling, and still, I found myself looking for fulfillment that males could not provide. Ultimately, I was the only one who could make myself feel worthy, who could make myself feel loved, but only with the guidance of God, a fact that I would not realize at the time nor for many years to come.
Years later, I would find the man who would not only love me for my flaws, but would accept me in spite of them. God understood that in my heart I would doubt myself, and tell myself that I was not capable nor deserving of being loved. The rhetoric had been ingrained into my being, and it was how I treated myself. He understood that I needed someone who would bring me to realize what I had to offer to a relationship, and that man later became my husband.
I truly believe that this is why God also blessed me with sons
and not daughters. Certainly I longed for the ability to play dress up with a little girl, and fantasized about what the moment that I would help the daughter that would never be purchase her wedding dress. I allowed myself to be sad for the female bond that I would never experience with a daughter, before I understood the amazing blessings of raising sons.
My boys are the most sensitive children I have encountered, and their hearts amaze me every day. Their ability to love with their full hearts and understand the pain of others, seeking to provide them with comfort, are traits I not only admire but wish to emulate myself.
I know that these boys were sent to me, to mother and to love them, as a heavenly reminder that I am capable of loving another, and being loved in return.