I just want them to be happy
We hear parents say that a lot. If you’re a parent I would bet that you’ve said it more than once. Variations include “As long as they’re healthy” and “I just want what’s best for them.” We are parents. Of course we want them to be happy. Or is it us that want to be happy ourselves?
Our righteous ideas of unconditional love and acceptance are easy to preach. What happens though, when our kids test those theories? How do we cope when the true meaning of our words is thrust at us in a defiant challenge?
I want to quit the swim team.
I’m gay/bi/queer…
John invited me to go hunting with him this weekend.
College just isn’t for me.
There is no God.
I want to go live with Dad.
We are all different, and have different thoughts and reactions to the various waves that rock our boats as we sail through life. For some issues, we are able to maintain our stance with dignity. After all, we truly do want them to be happy and healthy.
Mother knows best
Sometimes we feel (know?) that we know better than them. Our experiences and hard-earned wisdom far surpass theirs.
You think you’ll be happy, but…
It’s too dangerous.
There’s a lot more to this than you could possibly comprehend.
You don’t really understand what you’re saying.
Sound familiar? It’s natural. As parents we know better than them what will lead to happiness in the long run. We see the bigger picture as to what will keep them safe and healthy. How can they understand what’s best for them?
The one that blindsided me a few years ago was “l want to go live with Dad.” It included, by default, “I want to quit my soccer team.”
Sound the alarm!
As most typical parents would, I immediately went into DEF-CON 5 (or maybe 4 or even 3). This was a big deal. Red alert and all alarms ringing.
Interestingly enough, Dad wasn’t the problem. We’d been separated for years but maintained a high level of respect and communication. I’d even go so far as to say we are still friends. He’s a good man. Our paths simply divided in ways we couldn’t surpass.
The problem with living with Dad was that Dad lives on the other side of the world. So yeah, this was a HUGE issue. Dad also runs the family restaurant and thus works 6 nights a week. Not an ideal parenting arrangement for a 12 year old boy in the full throes of puberty.
I dragged him through the gauntlet of reasons that this was simply a bad idea.
You’ll lose a year of school because their academic calendar is different.
You’re 3 years behind in Language Arts, which was never your strong suit in the first place. (If you’ve ever looked at the Japanese writing systems – there are 3 – you understand this challenge).
Your soccer team is the best in the region and you are one of the top players! Your team needs you and your coach will be crushed!
School over there is waaaay harder than school here, and won’t offer you choices like Robotics and Band.
The closest high school is over an hour away and most of your friends will go to different schools.
You won’t be able to drive until you are 19 years old!
I argued with every logical reason I could find, and he deftly parried each one with his own well-thought-out rebuttal. As proud of him as I was, it was infuriating.
Time to call in the big guns
I called his father.
“Do something,” I demanded. “He doesn’t know what he’s throwing away! He’s only 12. He has no idea what is good for him.”
To my great dismay, my ex calmly instructed me to think about our son.
“You know him,” he reminded me. “He has to make his own choices – his own mistakes. He won’t rest until he has tried.”
The worst thing was, he was right. And honestly, the efforts my son was making to prove to all of us that he was absolutely miserable were beginning to wear us all down.
So I made preparations to send him off. 3/4 of the way through 8th grade, he de-registered, and his father arranged for him to join the last month of 7th grade in Japan. I insisted that he tell his soccer coach himself that he was leaving, and he did.
It was all quite heartbreaking, and there was some criticism of how I could just let him go. Secretly I hoped that he would quickly see the folley of his decision. I waited eagerly for his dad to call and admit that he wasn’t prepared to raise a teenager by himself. I wanted my son to realize that the grass wasn’t greener on the other side.
The problem was that it was.
Greener grass
Fast forward 4 years to the present. My son is thriving. He has had some ups and downs, and has dealt with each like a champ. He certainly did discover that the grass wasn’t as green as he thought it would be, but for him, it was still greener than here.
He learned the hard way what it meant to go from top player on a mediocre team to bottom player on a really good team. After a year of being benched for every major match, he quit soccer once and for all. Still, his brief time on the team took him to Korea for a tournament, so I guess it was worth it.
School is hard. In Japan they have to sit for entrance exams to try to gain acceptance into the high school of their choice. Even with his distinct handicap in Japanese Language Arts, he excelled in English and surprisingly Math, and was able to get into his first choice school.
I’m sure that it’s been a hard adjustment for Dad too. Going from full bachelor to responsible parent of a teenager can’t be easy. Sure, they might not talk as much as they should. It took me a day to notice when he visited over Spring Break that he needed glasses – a fact that eluded his dad for nearly 2 years. But when all is said and done, he’s dong a good job, attends PTA meetings, and has him officially working in the family restaurant.
The bottom line (like it or not)
The real clincher is that my son is happy.
He loves the independence he has in Japan, a much safer society than here. He can ride his bike all over the city and further, without fear of dangers greater than accidentally crashing into a rice paddy. He and his friends take buses and trains to mass-metropolitan Tokyo and beyond on epic day-trips.
Most of all, he has discovered his true passion – fishing. Living blocks from the ocean in rural Japan is ideal for a lover of the sea.
My son has learned many things through this great adventure. He made serious decisions and stood by them through a barrage of criticisms and skepticism. He tried things and failed at some and succeeded at others. I’ve seen a massive increase in his appreciation for his unique upbringing.
Honestly though, it is me who has learned the most. I learned to really listen to my son and consider his ideas and goals. My parenting was put to a test, and I think that I have passed. We both have a long way to go, but I think we are on the right paths. The fact that those paths are not touching at this moment is trivial.
My son chose to leave me and that’s OK. He’s happy, healthy, and doing what’s best for him right now. And that’s enough.