People are very good at discovering explanations why it’s easier to wait before learning to be a parent.
Some of the are valid concerns. Younger parents are – generally – less inclined to have the financial security, relationship stability and emotional maturity that “average” parents reap the benefits of. It is a little nosy from the stranger, if the concerns politely are voiced, it offers the young parent a chance to either require support, or say that they are confident within their abilities.
So why, with this particular arsenal of decent, valid concerns at their disposal, are people only with the capacity of discovering probably the most ridiculous concern ever?
“But think about travelling?”.
Since learning to be a mum at 19, I’ve realised that my entire life is meaningless. Meaningless utterly. Whatever I achieve; it counts for nothing, because I haven’t spent six weeks backpacking by way of a jungle somewhere.
Apparently, every under-25 in the annals of – well, forever – really wants to go travelling. Life is empty without it somehow. If you haven’t gone travelling, you haven’t lived.
This is, needless to say, according to individuals who found themselves while on safari in Tanzania. Look, easily have to drive by way of a field filled with animals to get spiritual fulfilment, I’ll head to West Midlands Safari Park. I won’t need to risk malaria to “find myself”.
People can’t realize why someone wouldn’t desire to go travelling. I could only here answer for myself, but I hate each of the following: heat, flying, bugs and spending a lot of money. There’s four reasons there why I didn’t desire to travel, and do not require have anything regarding expecting at a age.
Of course, expecting at a age did put an extra kibosh on any travelling plans, but limited to now – and only because I’m a homebody who couldn’t imagine trekking over the desert with a child in a carrier. You can find those who are travelling the planet right with a child in tow now.
Even worse compared to the people who think that life is empty without getting drunk on a Thai beach at twenty-one, will be the individuals who – when I inform them I’ve no fascination with travelling – tell me that it is “only because I’m bitter that I cannot because I’m a mum”. Sorry, I didn’t realise your spiritual enlightenment safari meant you can now read minds!
Why isn’t it thought to those people who are going to execute a PhD? “Oh no, don’t tie yourself down with learning, go and create a educational school in Kenya!”. Or someone who’s just secured a graduate placement at Ernst & Young? “Who needs money, head to Australia!”. Nope, it’s just young parents, who couldn’t possibly be learning and working concurrently. Should they don’t go travelling, it’s purely because of the parenting commitments.
Oh, and do not claim that parenting can be an adventure alone. They don’t like this at all. No, parenting – and much more specifically, motherhood – is really a menial task. It is a dreary, day-in, day-out drudgery that you cannot see as anything “fun”. Most of the “you need to travel” attitude reflects how society sees motherhood.
It reflects how society sees teenagers also. The freedom of youth is really a fallacy. In case a teenager or young person is really a parent, or centered on work or study, they’re “wasting their childhood”. Should they spend their time blogging or gaming, they’re “immature” and “have to mature”. They only belong to the “acceptable” bracket should they enjoy the nice, middle-class youth pursuits – going to third-world countries or backpacking through Eastern European hills.
Travelling is not a bad thing, and when people appreciate it, more capacity to them. When people go travelling, they will have fantastic experiences, meet incredible people and do brilliant things – but could it be the end-all and be-all? Needless to say not. The matter that irritates me may be the continued refusal to trust that I possibly could find parenting as fulfilling because they find travelling. It is the biggest adventure I’ve ever been on.
Maybe I’ll go travelling in my own thirties – maybe to somewhere just like the Arctic, where heat and mosquitos won’t bother me – and I’ll take my then-teenage daughter with me, if she really wants to come. Or possibly I won’t. As some individuals find the notion of parenting utterly mind-numbing just, I’d rather staple my ears to my head than jet off somewhere equatorial.
So don’t have a pity party for me once you think about my almost-empty passport and my poor, unenlightened life. Being truly a young parent is my adventure, and I don’t need your validation to take pleasure from it.