I never pictured myself as a #boymom. When I thought of my future children I saw girly girls. You know the ones with the tight curls and who insist on wearing a pink tutu all. of. the. time. We would do crafts, dance class, and manicures. I’d teach her to love herself, dream big and to never compromise who she is. I’d teach her to be brave and that she was capable of anything she set her mind to.
But if I am truly honest, I always had this fear that I would pass on my own brokenness to my daughters. The self-hate, low self-esteem, insecurities and eating disorder. The extreme perfectionism and the constant feelings of inadequacy. Being a girl in in this world is hard and the thought of passing on any of my broken patterns was enough to stop me in my tracks. Was I really meant to be a mother?
God knew exactly what he was doing. He didn’t make me a mama of girls, but a mama of boys. And while that terrified me almost as much, there was also freedom to forge new ways, new paths, and to always be learning. Freedom to be exactly who I am in my brokenness and to work on healing authentically while still raising children. Freedom to learn and heal from my role as a mama.
What a gift my sons are. I get the honor of raising Godly, sensitive, strong men. Men who love themselves and others. Men who are never afraid to show their feelings and know emotions do not equate to weakness. Men who are empathetic and giving and passionate about changing the world. Men who honor women, understand our battles and work tirelessly to uplift them. Men who are courageous and confident in who they are and who God made them to be. Men who are filled with truth, with love and with grace.
Men who will change this world.
And if I can do all that while still healing my brokenness….well then that is all I could ever ask for as a mama.