The Tightrope Walk of Motherhood: When Love Looks Like Blindness
Every morning, I wake up and see the world through a particular lens. It’s not rose-colored, exactly, but it definitely has a filter. It’s the “My Child Can Do No Wrong (Or At Least It’s Not Really Their Fault)” filter. And if you’re a mother, especially to an adult child navigating their own bumpy path, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
Recently, I’ve found myself walking that familiar tightrope, balancing my fierce love for my children with the subtle, and sometimes not-so-subtle, whispers from the world outside our little bubble. The whispers about their choices, specifically around their drinking and some of the fallout that comes with it.
The Art of the Explanation
Let’s be honest, we mothers are masters of explanation. Did they miss an important family dinner? “Oh, they’re just so overwhelmed with work right now, you know how demanding their job is!” Were they a little too loud at the holiday gathering, perhaps spilled a drink or two, and made a few questionable comments? “Bless their heart, they’re just letting loose! Everyone needs to unwind, and they’ve been under so much pressure.”
It’s never a simple “they had too much to drink.” It’s “they’re trying to cope,” or “they’re just having fun,” or “it’s a phase.” We’ve got a whole Rolodex of perfectly reasonable, entirely understandable reasons why this particular incident isn’t that big of a deal.
Why We Do It (The Unspoken Truth)
Is it denial? Maybe, a little. But I prefer to think of it as fierce protection.
- We know their hearts: We remember the sweet child who would bring us dandelions, the teenager with dreams bigger than the sky. We see that person, even when they’re a bit obscured by less-than-ideal choices.
- The world is harsh enough: Frankly, the world is quick to judge. As their mother, I feel it’s my job to be their soft landing, their advocate, their shield against that judgment. If I don’t stand up for them, who will?
- It’s easier to cope: Admitting there’s a serious problem, a pattern that’s deeply concerning, means facing uncomfortable truths. It means potential interventions, difficult conversations, and the terrifying prospect of watching your child struggle more profoundly. And frankly, that’s terrifying.
- The fear of failure: What if their struggles reflect on my parenting? What if it means I did something wrong? It’s an unfair burden, but it’s one many mothers carry.
The “Phase” Argument
“They’ll grow out of it.” How many times have I said that? It’s the ultimate trump card. They’re young, they’re experimenting, they’re finding themselves. This isn’t who they really are. This is just a temporary detour on the road to becoming the brilliant, successful, well-adjusted adult I know they are destined to be.
And maybe they will. Maybe all those “just letting loose” nights are just that. Maybe the missed calls are genuinely about a dead phone battery, not something else. Maybe the slight edge in their voice is exhaustion, not irritation.
The Hope That Blinds (Sometimes)
Ultimately, every excuse, every deflection, every fierce defense comes from a place of profound love and hope. We want the best for our children more than anything. We want them to be happy, healthy, and thriving. And sometimes, in our desperate desire to see that future, we squint a little at the present. We highlight the positives, downplay the negatives, and convince ourselves that everything is, truly, going to be just fine.
Because isn’t that what a mother does? She believes, even when it’s hard. She defends, even when she’s tired. And she loves, unconditionally, even when it feels like she’s the only one seeing the good.
What are your thoughts? Have you ever found yourself making excuses for someone you love, hoping they’ll find their way? Share your experiences in the comments below.
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