Parenting the little me while parenting a child with an absent father

First, I would like to say I am proud of us millennials for our attempt at doing things differently. We are seeking therapy, having taboo conversations surrounding religion, asking more questions, living life on our terms, choosing to live healthier lives, and let’s not forget, “soft parenting.” Soft parenting, according to Google by definition it means to emphasize a calm, nurturing, and emotionally sensitive approach to child-rearing, focusing on understanding and responding to a child's feelings and needs rather than relying heavily on traditional discipline methods. Empathy and understanding, emotional regulation, positive reinforcement, respectful communication, focusing on needs, seeking boundaries and structure. In my opinion, it comes with its pros and cons.

Now, don’t get me wrong, yes there are plenty of people that still take the old school approach because “That’s how they were raised, and they turned out fine.” But what does turn out fine actually mean? In my head I turned out fine, that is until someone who experiences me and calls me out on my behavior that I realize… Ummmm yea, maybe I didn’t.  Those pros and cons of soft parenting, well, buckle up. I’m currently in therapy. I have been on and off for years. After a traumatic life shift in 2016 I started going religiously despite my upbringing and what I was taught to just pray about it and leaning not on my own understanding. If I’m completely honest, I felt like God left your girl hanging. So, I went. I was even prescribed anxiety medication, although growing up I was told they were pills for crazy people. As a single parent I used to take my son to my sessions. I would have him sit on a couch with his tablet and headphones while I talked to the nice lady that gave him all the snacks he wanted.

I took notice that the sessions were helping, the medication was too. I was coming out of this deep depression I had been in for years; I was softening my approach to parenting. Prior to that I was angry, not at anyone in particular, but my inner Jenaiya, that little girl, she was angry. So, everyone around her got it, including my son. Not in the way you’re probably thinking. I just was there but not there, if you know what I mean. I was taught learned, unlearning, and relearning behaviors and ways to navigate life. For example, instead of whooping my son, I chose the corner. I started having more conversations with him about his feelings. After all, I’m raising a whole person with a personality. I wanted to give him something I didn’t have as a child, a voice. The pros of that, he isn’t fearful of me, he talks to me about things most children wouldn’t dare talk to their mothers about, and he is able to distinguish right from wrong with knowing that wrong comes with consequences that don’t include being hit.

The con, he doesn’t know that outside of our home he can’t just express himself without the filter. A complete state of confusion for him. Then we usher in the pre-teen years. THAT is a beast I wasn’t fully prepared for. The hormones, the internet, the girls, and trying to figure out who he is while being influenced by what he sees. That flows into the relationship with his dad. At some point his dad stopped being present. Just when he thought he found his voice, it was shut down. A single text message. One that his dad thought came from me. His dad questioned it, my son responded with his truth, and he was confronted with being told to stay in a child’s place. That’s when the shift happened. That’s when I started questioning my own approach to parenting.

 His voice was silenced and that’s when I felt the ramifications of his hurt. That’s when the absence of his dad began. That’s when I started to not recognize my baby. Me to myself, I have the solution, therapy. Simultaneously, I got a frantic call from one of his teachers who expressed that she thought it would be good for him because she noticed a shift in his behavior too. She was a white lady. She said she didn’t want to come off offensive, but she knew a lot of black people didn’t believe in therapy and felt he could benefit from it. She noticed a change in him and said she doesn’t know if this is the reason, but her son started exhibiting the same behaviors when his dad wasn’t as present anymore. I told her I appreciated her concern, and I was no stranger to therapy. I thanked her for seeing my son, I asked if he wanted to go. He said yes, so I immediately scheduled him an appointment with a child therapist.

I’ll never forget, after one of his sessions the therapist asked me to come look at this sand box. There was an exercise where he had to build out how he saw the relationship and family dynamics between his dad and I. There was distinct separation. His dad and his new family and me and my mom. He was in the middle. I asked why they were all knocked over. She said that’s the discord. It broke my heart. I wanted to protect him. This was not the way things were supposed to play out for him. He was not supposed to grow up feeling the same discord that I felt as a child. How did we get here? How do I even fix it? Is this one of those generational curses that I’ve always heard about? I had to get to the root. The root, my parents. I had to have some very transparent conversations with them both. I had to express my hurt to them and how I felt the little me didn’t have what she needed from them growing up. How I felt I had to parent them. And now, now this is being passed down to my child, their grandson. I felt like I was doing the work, healing generational trauma, having those tough conversations, talking to my son about my upbringing and figuring out how to do it differently. That wasn’t taking away his pain.

Therapy, vacations, me showing up to every awards ceremony and sport event, positive male figures, more freedom to express, check-ins to discuss how he was feeling, and despite the push back from the other side, being a voice for him to be able to spend time with his dad’s side of the family regardless to the relationship he wasn’t cultivating. The outcome…how do you give a kid something they need that you can’t provide, his dad. The absence of his dad can’t be filled by anything or anyone. There is no magic wand, therapy session, or check- in that would replace that hole he feels from the absence and not being able to express directly to him the question I know lingers, “Why.” The guilt for me began to set in. Why didn’t I just suck up my own unhappiness to make sure he had a two-parent household. Before you even think it, I know, he would feel the unhappiness. Although I know ultimately, we made the right decision not being together, that doesn’t erase the thoughts, the guilt, or the shame. That doesn’t erase the fact that as a mother you always feel like you will sacrifice yourself for your child. That doesn’t erase the knowing that his feelings and thoughts of this very thing are valid because you yourself felt the same way because of how you grew up stuck in a family dynamic where you just wanted both parents to be present.

Other people that have gone through similar situations, friends, and family all typically respond with “He’s the one missing out,”  “When your son is older, graduates, and is doing well, he better not try to get the credit,” “Don’t worry about that, you’re doing such a great job with him as a single mother.” The truth, I don’t want to hear that. When he isolates himself, needs to talk to a man about things, or just wants validation from the one person he admires and longs for most isn’t present, no one wants to hear any of that. He is a teenage boy that’s trying to figure himself out, where he fits in, and navigating the difficulties of growing into a young black man in America in 2025. The resentment and anger, you guessed it, it’s geared towards me subconsciously. No amount of me replaces the pain of not having him. In 2018 I manifested my son meeting Adonis Creed, aka Michael B. Jordan. It went viral. One comment did it for me, “It’s always the mother, where is his father? He must not be around.” I deleted the remanence of that day. Washed my social media clean of one of the happiest days of my son’s life. Although this is not the ideal situation, I still find myself being protective of his dad because I don’t know if he is learning to parent the little him. If he even has the tools to be able to identify how his absence is affecting his children mentally and emotionally from potentially being held captive in his own reality of childhood undoing. And me, there is still the guilt, the shame, the embarrassment, the jealousy, the pain, and in this being voiceless and unable to express any of this to his dad. While undoing my upbringing, I’ve found myself attempting to parent my little self while parenting a child with an absent father. No manual, no blueprint, no real guidance. Just figuring it out as I go. As we go.

Growth is not linear

As I sat in my office, I looked over at this plant. I clipped a piece off of a plant that had been repotted but began to die, months ago. I placed the cut piece into a clear glass of water. In the beginning, it was only a stem. It didn't have a bulb or even any roots. However, I had faith that it would grow. As the months have passed, the stem started to curl, a bulb developed, a leaf and roots sprouted. I decided it was time to pot it. As you can see, we've started small. I also decided to move it to a space where it would receive proper lighting and I was very particular about the potting soil as well as the fertilizer. Within 60 days, the rest of these leaves have sprouted.

As I take out the time to nurture this pothos, it will continue to grow. Once the environment changed, what it was being fed, and even uprooting and cutting it away from what no longer served it took place, I saw real growth. You see, growth is not linear and it takes time. When you make the choice to stay in a space you're used to because it's comfortable, you may not realize its hindering you from becoming an even better version of yourself. Sometimes you have to move out of your comfort zone in order to truly move out of your own way. Being stuck in your ways or making statements we hear all too often from more mature individuals, "That's just how I am," doesn't leave room to grow and really see the full potential of who you really are.

In most instances that's a means of protection from past experiences that have caused fear, hurt, and unresolved trauma. Take inventory. Spend time with yourself and really acknowledge why you're so comfortable remaining. What are some experiences that have taken place in the past that have caused you to get so comfortable in protection mode that it's stunted your growth? Acknowledge it, I'm here to tell you, it's not going to be comfortable, at all. I promise it will be worth it though. Get out of your own way and past your fears of becoming a better version of yourself. I have faith in your growth, just like I did with this plant. I know for a fact what you nurture and take care of will grow. You've got this. If you need assistance in your process, let me know. HAPPY GROWING- Jenaiya

Identifying your light

I’ve always thought I was a pretty “interesting” or “weird” person. The adult me calls it my personal “Razzle Dazzle.” Growing up I knew I was different. I didn’t have imaginary friends, but I would talk to God A LOT and my loved ones that have passed on. I always felt they were with me in some way. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I would pray, write in my journal, have dreams, and have these spiritual encounters while in church and had no idea they were gifts I possessed. I realized something was very different about me while in elementary school. Everything I named above was happening to me even then. I would get these chills that would last for a split second whenever I would pray but it wasn’t cold. I would write my dreams down because they came to me like movies; and I would be able to interpret what they meant. I could speak about something, and it would happen. When they say life and death is in the power of the tongue, I fully believe that because I’ve lived it.

Because I did not understand my spiritual gifts, I dismissed it as me being strange or weird. I never talked about it because I didn’t want to be judged or made fun of. I remember the first time I spoke in tongues. I was in high school. I have always been a heavy prayer. I mean I pray about everything. “Lord, I thank you for this sew in turning out flawless!” Yes, that’s me. I mean everything, LOL. But I was praying and started speaking this gibberish and couldn’t stop it. Whenever it happens, I never feel it coming, I can’t understand it, and I get that chill I spoke of earlier. It’s literally having a personal conversation with God that only he can understand. Although I knew I possessed these gifts, I was truly unaware of the blessing they were. Until recently at 37 did I realize how my spiritual gifts would help heal my childhood trauma and affirm and confirm that I am on the right track with my life.

I went to Mexico for my birthday this year. While there, for the first time ever in my life, I felt this sense of peace and happiness. I mean genuine happiness. The feeling that came over me was pure bliss. It wasn’t because of any birthday gifts, a man, my friends, or my son. I literally sat on the beach to watch the sunrise the day of my birthday and I thought about who I am. That I’ve finally gotten to the place and space in my life where I know exactly who I am, and I genuinely love myself through and through; unapologetically. I can look at myself in the mirror and recognize the reflection. There's no mask. There's no worrying about who’s going to love or leave me. There is no need for validation from others. Theres no more negative self-talk. Its grace, love, peace, joy, allowing myself to feel, allowing myself to cry whenever I feel I need to, it’s me taking accountability for when I fall short or when someone has a bad experience of me, its me forgiving myself for not trusting myself, it’s me truly living a life of gratitude even when life doesn’t seem so great.

Some people NEVER get to feel or even understand what that feels like. In that moment I thought about my spiritual gifts and how “this” has been in me all along and God has attempted to show me me but even with that, he had to allow me to actually see me. A few days ago I thought about me catching rays in my pictures. If you follow me on social media, you know what I mean. To me it was always the way I was able to literally catch the rays of sunshine in pictures. There was one picture in particular that was taken by someone else in Mexico of my best friend and I. When I looked at it, I noticed I was catching rays but wasn’t in control of the camera, of course. Immediately, God spoke to me. The spirit said, I’m always shining a light on you, you just had to identify it yourself. When I think about those people that are intimidated by me for no reason when I walk in a room without saying a word, when I think about those that walked away from me for whatever reason, when I think about me having the ability to go through the things I’ve gone through and still position myself to help others….I was able to truly identify my gift and it’s always been the light of God that’s shined so bright on me since I was born; on a Sunday, might I add.

My prayer now is that God continues to shine his light so bright on me that the people that experience me can experience his light in me. I was in Chick Fil A in line. This man was just starring at me. He wouldn't even break his stare when I looked back at him. I was with a coworker and I asked if she saw him, she did. She said it was like he was seeing an angel. (I did have on all white) She said it was like something was radiating off me. I already knew what it was he was seeing when she said this. You’re not weird, that sign you saw was real, that still small voice is not in your head, those random chills you get when it’s not even cold is your confirmation. Walk in your light and know not everyone will be able to stand the light. Just tell them to purchase a pair of those eclipse glasses because you’re still going to shine, and you don’t want them to go blind. Keep shining Beauties- Jenaiya