Eight years ago, today, I found out I was having a boy. It was then, in that ultrasound room, that I felt the weight of the world upon my shoulders. My visible hesitation threw off the tech and, true to my nature, I made some joke to play it off. But inside, inside, I was shaking like a leaf.
The challenge lay before me, bold and screaming - raise a good man! What does that mean? What’s the difference between a raising nice person and a good man? How do I make sure that he levels-up?
This was uncharted territory for me. Raising little women? - Easy. I could do that with my eyes closed. Keep her wild, open, and safe. But a little man? Where would I place my focus? How could I guarantee to bring out the good man that lies inside of this tiny human?
I left that dark room scared shitless. My connection with this little man was undeniable from the beginning. I wrapped my arms around my growing belly and felt at peace. I decided to take it step by step - to love him hard and hope that the rest would follow. Love him and greatness will follow, right? Right?
As he grew, so did his tantrums. He would spit on me, was known to pull my hair out, and rarely did as I said, ever! Still, I loved him, hard. I was his constant. I learned what made him; what made him angry, frustrated, happy, and what brought him to tears. I adapted to his ever-changing moods, never denying a single emotion. Never. Not one.
I learned how he communicated and remembered to do so on his level, while teaching him my own ways. Communication is a two-way street, after all. Good men have their ways but respect that their way isn’t the only way.
When he grasps weeds in his hands, pulled just for me, I bend to his level, looking straight into his eyes, and show him how much joy a simple act like that can bring. Time and time again, I bend, not breaking eye contact, and appreciate him. Day after day, I am his constant reminder that simple gestures of kindness and love are enough. He is enough.
When he brings new thoughts to me, I challenge him. Daily, I ask that he consider his language, his opinion, and the world around him. When his view is narrowed, it is my job to widen it, never settling for anything less than a worldly perspective. I ask that he level-up whenever I can in hopes that he will stand before the partner of his choosing and challenge their thinking someday.
And, when he comes to me in the night, I throw open the blankets and allow him into my ‘snuggle spot.’ His fears are real. They may be different than mine, or his sister’s, but they are equally as real. I listen as he tells me what weighs on his mind. It is here that I refuse to insert my own shit. Nah - this is about him and I am just safety. This is my time to simply listen.
He was born good. I didn’t do that. What I have done, and will continue to do, is to create a world in which he is loved, heard, appreciated, given perspective, and safe. We can all level-up if we live in an environment that fosters this kind of growth. If you didn’t have it growing up, create it now. Find the people that feel like home - who will love you hard, swoon over life’s simplicities, share opinions, and hold you safe in their ‘snuggle spot.”