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“I’ll be a kickass mom.” An extraordinary letter to a sperm by a future mother that protests against society’s definition of a perfect mother.
This is probably a first that a future mother is talking to the sperm that is yet to take a human form. Well, I thought let’s begin early. I want to tell you few things before I let you occupy my body. Because once you do, you sort of become my responsibility.
You know that in the world that I live in, I’ll be called your mother. Your biological mother. The one who lets you grow inside her and leashes you to the cruel ugly world. I’m pretty sure you’re going to curse me later that being a sperm was way better off. No fear of being judged no? Happily swimming in your pool of life.
So here is the deal, OK? I’m a working professional. I love going out. Meeting people. Partying. Late night parties mostly. I also love lazing at home. Waking up without an alarm. I’m hyper active and also utterly lazy. An oxymoronish woman I must say. I have my plate full. But if I ever get to share space with you, there are certain things you must make peace with.
Firstly the society. You know, in the place I live in, there are people all around. People who have a proper list of terms and conditions of who a perfect mother is.
I must put you ahead of me. I must forego things I like to do for you. I must ensure that I am around you 24×7 or at least think of you all the time. You must become the centre of my world. I need to plan my weekends based on how you want it to be. My Saturday nights with my husband wouldn’t be as they used to be. We will have lesser sex because you will be between us.
I should make it a point to mention to people how you are the apple of my eye and how life before you was not great. Oh yes, the most important thing is that I must just think and say and feel that ‘you complete me’ because earlier I sort of had just three limbs.
I must save my life savings to make sure you get everything you want. I must stay awake late nights to make you a cup of tea to help you stand first in class. To put you in the best school which is the most competitive and makes sure children are classified based on grades. And before you decide, I must decide for you what graduation course you should study and pay for you to attend extra classes from grade 7 to top the school and get into the best universities. I must also make sure you are well taken care of financially before you decide to start earning. And then I must tell you to marry and give me grandchildren. You will ask me to be the caretaker for them so that you can vacation with your wife.
And then one fine day when I’m old and shrunk, you will want me to move away. And then on my death bed, you’ll want to know my investments and their maturity date. (Though I will want to whack you, and tell you that most of it has gone in bringing you up). See, that’s motherhood for you.
But let me tell you dear, I ain’t all this. I am ambitious and I like my space. I have my things to do. I am not giving up my passion to raise you. I’ll teach you how to make a good morning coffee and you shall do so going forward. I’ll want to have some nights with my husband and you shall leave the room. I will have vacations to take with my girl friends and you will be taken care by someone trust worthy.
I don’t want you to worship me. Don’t treat me like God. It’s my biological nature to carry a human inside. And the human happens to be you. Don’t over do your love for me. Just treat me with respect like a fellow human.
I will make sure you are comfortable. If you aren’t happy going to school, I will help you learn something else to keep you occupied. I will not tell you what to do and what not to do. I will not raise you like I was raised. My mother’s world revolves around me and she has done nothing but work for me to lead a good life. I’m not doing all that, honey.
I’ll be around you. I’ll tell you what clothes you look good in. If you like someone of the same sex, I’ll gladly support you. If you want to do farming, I’ll make sure you give me the vegetables to cook. Let’s not make one another a baggage or I must say, a dependency. Let’s live independently and happily. Let’s learn to live without one another.
I’ll be a kickass mom. Probably not the kind of mother defined by society. But I’ll be what I need to be with you. I’ll be your mother and I’ll be other things. It’s just another role I play in life. Like a writer, how I show love to my work, I will love you because you will be a piece of my work too. A piece that I will love, adore, cherish and let go at the right time. Fly away, my child, I will not give you the wings but I will cut the branch you’re sitting on. That’s how you’ll grow and I’ll watch you grow from a distance. The distance between the waves and the shore.
Don’t stay in my shadow. I don’t want that. Fly high. I will fly too. Let’s have a happy life and not tie each other with the overly blown up bond of mother and child relationship. Let’s share the space independently just like our womb days. Grow and let me also grow.
For now, happy swimming!
Published here earlier.
Image source: writing a letter by Shutterstock.
Author of 'Make it 2'.
Extremist. Feminist. Humanist. Mentalist.
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