It suddenly hit me the other day, as I watched The Boy head out the door, heading for the first review of his first ever examinations in his high school career that my sweet little baby is in fact no longer a baby but a young man on the rapid road to manhood.
I flashed back on who I was when I was at the same point as him in my life and it scared me. I was over confident, so sure that I knew all the answers and nobody was going to tell me anything different. I was arrogant, self absorbed and very angry. Looking back, the person I am now wants to reach through the pages of time and smack the girl that I was silly. I know now that I knew nothing, that those around me who were trying to acting like bitches motivate me were not in fact doing it because they hated me but because they loved me and saw that I had potential, they saw who I could be and wanted to see that I actually did become that person. Sadly they failed because the smoke colored glasses of teenage angst couldn’t be ripped from my face, I had too tight a grip on them. I saw things the way I wanted to see them and that was that.
Now I look at my own son and I worry about the road that he’s on. I’m hoping that his own smoke colored glasses aren’t such a tight fit and that I’ll be able to push him and motivate him so that he does reach his potential and doesn’t get trap in a life that he regrets, not that I regret my life.
I’m happy where I am. I know I’m not perfect, far from it. I’m taking steps to improve, to become more than I am right now. Working towards a place where I can say that I’m not only happy with where I am, but also where I’m going.
That’s what I want for The Boy, for him to not only be happy with where he is but for him to know where he is going and to be happy with the path that he’s chosen.