Sometimes, I write for my kids

I’m still in the process of writing #TheBridge and it has proven to be a very daunting task because of all the memories that I’m forced to revisit.

So as I was scrolling through my newsfeed, I stumbled upon this post: Exes Ask Each Other Questions They Never Had A Chance To While Dating (Video), which I thought would be helpful but I was wrong. Half-way through the first video when she asked him why he cheated on her so many times, I had to end it. “I can’t watch this,” I told myself. His final answer to her was, “Yeah, I don’t have the answer to that.”

The reason I started #TheBridge (aside from the fact that some friends have been ‘encouraging’ me to write it for many years now) was because of my children. My 12-year-old is already interested in some girl from the opposite school. My 10-year-old, although she doesn’t seem to care about stuff like that, is also reaching that age. And we all know they grow up so damn fast. I have seven kids who will have to deal with I-don’t-know how many relationship problems each. I’m getting nervous just thinking about it.

I’d like them to know what being in a relationship with the opposite sex is about. How they will cry their heart out at the most confusing time of their life and it’s all never like what they read in romance novels or what they see in rom-coms. How both parties can be too proud to admit their mistakes. About how they WILL make mistakes and hurt each other when they are trying to guard their own feelings. And how some broken pieces just remain unfixable.

Sometimes I think the things we experienced when we were younger were just so petty and the ways we chose to handle them were just so silly. We were all so gullible back then. But, returning to those moments with our younger selves is still as painful.

And this is when I wish I could just keep my kids in a monastery for the rest of their lives. Or stuff them back into my womb.

*** This was originally posted on my Facebook page on 6 June 2016.


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