It first happens the day one is born. There is sudden separation from the mother source. Everything now comes from outside; it is still the mother, but feeding through the mouth is not the same as through the physical, biologically inseparable bond of the umbilical. One adapts.
A day comes where one is free to roam, no longer needing a parent for transport. A phrase is learned to indicate a desire to be carried, but it is not required for all movement around. One adapts.
Eventually the nourishment from the mother stops. It can happen gradually or immediately, depending on the mother, but there comes a day when the last feeding from the mother occurs and all dietary needs come from solid foods. One adapts.
One day, the mother goes back to work, leaving the child at home with a relative or babysitter, or maybe at a nursery for children too young for school. This is a difficult, upsetting, potentially traumatic change for the child and the mother. But one adapts.
The time comes in one’s life when a simple and natural action ceases. The time comes when a parent picks up their child for the last time, not realizing that this one, slightly uncomfortable heft would be their final. One probably does not notice this moment has passed, but there is a finality that comes and opens a new stage of growth and independence. One adapts.
Young women each face this day at different time. For some it is as early as third grade, for others as late as high school. To a girl, the first period signifies a big change. Older people tell her “You’re a woman now,” and there is either excitement for this change, or fear and shame about the “gross” thing the body is going to do for the next four decades, depending on how the mother presents this phenomenon. Either way, there is no getting out of it, and she adapts.
When it is time to leave home, some are ready to leave a broken home, and others are heartbroken to leave the place of comfort. Going out into the adult world is a scary place regardless because there is no parent or sibling close by to turn to for emotional support. An independence has to be fostered where there was none before. One adapts.
Losing one’s virginity is said to be an extremely important day. A girl becomes even more of a woman after this than the menarche. That childhood purity is gone, she is no longer an innocent. The gaze of those who know is different now. Some feel dirty. Some feel empowered and excited by this new world of sensation. She feels a sense of distance from the self that came before. She adapts.
Pregnancy, they say, makes a woman whole. A true woman has babies and raises them at home. Some women are lucky to have their own mother around to guide them on this new journey-others do not. Suddenly there is an entire life form within. Dietary habits must change, a nursery is to be decorated, and she sits for 10 months knowing that the life she knew is no longer hers now. Until she dies, there will be a small being relying on her for guidance, love, support, and strength during their own changes. She is afraid. She is in love. She adapts.
At last, the day comes. The day she feared from the moment she knew there was life inside her. The child is grown and is ready to leave. She remembers her own journey and how it felt to become independent, how it felt to roll her eyes at her own mother’s tears while they cried together. Now she understands. The little thing that once relied on her for everything has slowly been growing needless of her. She cries at losing what she loves most in the world but is overjoyed to watch their journey continue. She also begins to bask in the extra time and energy she now has for art, yoga, new recipes, and novel after novel. It is painful. It is joyful. She adapts.
A day comes where one is free to roam, no longer needing a parent for transport. A phrase is learned to indicate a desire to be carried, but it is not required for all movement around. One adapts.
Eventually the nourishment from the mother stops. It can happen gradually or immediately, depending on the mother, but there comes a day when the last feeding from the mother occurs and all dietary needs come from solid foods. One adapts.
One day, the mother goes back to work, leaving the child at home with a relative or babysitter, or maybe at a nursery for children too young for school. This is a difficult, upsetting, potentially traumatic change for the child and the mother. But one adapts.
The time comes in one’s life when a simple and natural action ceases. The time comes when a parent picks up their child for the last time, not realizing that this one, slightly uncomfortable heft would be their final. One probably does not notice this moment has passed, but there is a finality that comes and opens a new stage of growth and independence. One adapts.
Young women each face this day at different time. For some it is as early as third grade, for others as late as high school. To a girl, the first period signifies a big change. Older people tell her “You’re a woman now,” and there is either excitement for this change, or fear and shame about the “gross” thing the body is going to do for the next four decades, depending on how the mother presents this phenomenon. Either way, there is no getting out of it, and she adapts.
When it is time to leave home, some are ready to leave a broken home, and others are heartbroken to leave the place of comfort. Going out into the adult world is a scary place regardless because there is no parent or sibling close by to turn to for emotional support. An independence has to be fostered where there was none before. One adapts.
Losing one’s virginity is said to be an extremely important day. A girl becomes even more of a woman after this than the menarche. That childhood purity is gone, she is no longer an innocent. The gaze of those who know is different now. Some feel dirty. Some feel empowered and excited by this new world of sensation. She feels a sense of distance from the self that came before. She adapts.
Pregnancy, they say, makes a woman whole. A true woman has babies and raises them at home. Some women are lucky to have their own mother around to guide them on this new journey-others do not. Suddenly there is an entire life form within. Dietary habits must change, a nursery is to be decorated, and she sits for 10 months knowing that the life she knew is no longer hers now. Until she dies, there will be a small being relying on her for guidance, love, support, and strength during their own changes. She is afraid. She is in love. She adapts.
At last, the day comes. The day she feared from the moment she knew there was life inside her. The child is grown and is ready to leave. She remembers her own journey and how it felt to become independent, how it felt to roll her eyes at her own mother’s tears while they cried together. Now she understands. The little thing that once relied on her for everything has slowly been growing needless of her. She cries at losing what she loves most in the world but is overjoyed to watch their journey continue. She also begins to bask in the extra time and energy she now has for art, yoga, new recipes, and novel after novel. It is painful. It is joyful. She adapts.