A few months ago, my oldest wanted to attend a concert. It was an early evening plan at a pub with ticketing available for under-18, no access to alcohol, but the experience of music and youth. He came to ask for my permission, assured me that I would know where he was, that he doesn’t want to drink anyway and smoking sucks, but that his friends were going and he wanted to go too.
Being a single parent, it is hard work to manage freedom and teach responsibility at the same time worrying about possible missteps. I was also worried more about being over protective, strict and paranoid and severing ties of mature and open conversation with my growing son.
I told him I’ll think about it and let him know – and I did think about it, was worried sick and finally asked my friend, S, for his thoughts. S is younger, knows my pitta, control freak, passionate mommyness and at the same time was able to convince me that these events are tailored for younger kids, are safer…and more importantly, he knew that my son was a well-sorted kid for his age and would be fine.
Suppressing my ideas to loiter under cover outside the pub or ask S to go there instead, I decided to trust my son and my instinct and give my blessed permission and get on with it.
The event went well. He called me when he got to the venue, when he went to have dinner, got home on time and debriefed me, with some excitement, on what he did.
Since then, he has been to two events – larger than the pub and yes, potentially scarier, but he went with his friends and got back – safe, sober and with experiences.
Part of those experiences were one that both he and I learnt – about trust and respect. He knows I trust him, I know he trusts me. We have open conversations about drugs, sex and girlfriends (and studies and food and the importance of getting up on time in the mornings and not making me yell a zillion times and the importance of not throwing his clothes all over the floor!) …. but the bottom line is, within the safety net of what is possible as an experience for a 16-yr-old, in an Indian context of parenting and still holding on to the trepidations of a single mother looking to make very few mistakes in such matters, we are learning independence….. responsibly.
Over these months, my son has amazed me with his level of maturity, understanding and responsibility. He comes back home from these events and gives me a few highlights about what happened – the people he met, the fun stuff and the crap and somewhere between his words, he assures me by saying it would be very irresponsible to drink underage and/or get drunk where there was such poor network and risk not being able to get in touch with me….
He said all this very matter-of-factly, but I could feel my heart swelling with pride at the way he thought and how he was being both practical and considerate. At a previous event, he ensured that he got home (late) because he went out of the way to drop two girls home before heading home himself.
It isn’t easy raising children alone…. it just is easier when the load is shared and support is a real thing, but well, life doesn’t deal a fair hand to all of us and it is what it is. But… BUT…. seeing my kids grow up with their humor mixed with maturity and a sense of understanding – a sense of compassion in discerning at such a young age that some stresses are, after all, too much to pass on to their mum, is both heart-warming as well as reassuring.
I may be doing this alone, but I’m doing one helluva job raising fine people!
Writing this today as a note of such pride, joy & acknowledgement of the wonderful young man sleeping off the concert in the bedroom next to me!
Luvena's World 