I’m guessing that I learned responsibility early and have carried it with me over the years. Sometimes it can feel like a millstone around your neck, but it mostly seems to be the ‘right’ way to go. As a new mother, I was very aware of the responsibility of nurturing and caring for such a small creature. Then, as my children grew so did the responsibility surrounding their safety and care.
All of this was done with a healthy dose of love — and there was no resentment. Even as they grew to be young adults there was no letting go of it — in fact, it seemed to just get bigger and more onerous as they tested their boundaries. Sometimes I envied other parents who were able to let go of their responsibilities and allow the children/teenagers to work everything out for themselves.
Even when they officially became adults I had difficulty letting go and still felt somewhat responsible for their welfare. I worried about them and tried to do things for them to make their way in life easier. Gradually I learned to step back more and more — but probably not enough. I remember being resentful about my parents watching over me but failed to see the similarity in myself.
When Kelly’s downward spiral started and her behaviour became so abnormal by her standards my responsible self did all I could to try and help — to no avail. I’d managed successfully (I felt) to handle pending disasters with the other two, so I couldn’t see any difference with her. But it was different then and now that I look back I believe it was all meant to be.
When she died, I did my mother thing and attempted to shield the other two from more hurt — tried to take it all myself.
Then a few months ago I came across something that changed my thinking — a saying that has become a mantra for me as I navigate letting go of my adults who no longer need me for anything. Not an easy thing to do after what seems to be a lifetime of feeling and being responsible for them.
“Their happiness is not my responsibility!”
I have notes at my desk and beside my lounge chair telling me this, so I see it every day and get to absolve myself of any more responsibility for my children. It is getting easier.
So responsibility for your children is a good thing, but when they get to be adults it’s not. Letting go and allowing them to make their own mistakes and to learn from them is the only way to go. Unfortunately, I learned that lesson way too late — some of us are slow learners duh!
Letting go of my responsibility to them does not mean that I’ve stopped loving or caring for them —even when they are being particularly unpleasant. Not my responsibility — they are free to live their lives any way they choose. I don’t have to like it, but I do have to accept it. Plus they know that I’m there if they need me.
In reality, the only person I’m responsible for is myself.