This is a guest post by zaji. Zaji is a freelance writer and author. Visit her at thezaji.com. Don’t forget to check out her blog. She can be reached at zaji@thezaji.com.
My twentysomething chick arrived the other day. Aviance was six pounds seven ounces and entered the world with a head full of hair. Her little face was round and plump, as though she’d been here already for a few weeks. She was only three days old when she took her first picture, the first time her soul was captured, held in suspension for an eternity, or at least until the image faded away. This chick came in screaming. She screamed all the way to the nursery, woke all the other little soon-to-be twentysomethings from their slumber, and like a sinister little trouble maker, stopped crying, and listened as all the other newbies wailed in upset over the turmoil she caused.
She is now twenty. I watch in admiration as she begins her new life, the life of a twentysomething. Even as I look at her short frame, filled out by the passage of time and puberty, it still feels as though she just arrived.
I believe my experience with this young woman whom I admire and love has been somewhat different from the average parent. I discarded the mainstream notions of child rearing and created a new paradigm that served to nurture a person who I see as intelligent, sensitive, caring, quiet and unassuming. Is she still learning? Of course she is. She’s had her challenging moments, but never to a degree that left me wishing someone would bring back the baby they switched for mine in the nursery. Heck, I’m still learning for that matter. It is amazing how the new souls adjust and learn to put up with our fumbling about. For the most part, we learn by instinct to protect. All else is an adventure.
She strives to be independent, even in a culture where independence is not a simple trick. But for me, it’s more about communal living, which I believe allows for a more stable economical future. So my twentysomething is welcome to stay with me. I want her to save her money for her future, and for the moment, sharing resources to avoid unnecssary struggle.
My twentysomething hears this. And it pushes her to build skills she can use to create her own wealth. As an artist, she hopes her love of singing will gain her economic freedom. I’ve taught her how to play the piano on a preliminary level, so at the very least, she can read music and continue to effectively pursue her dreams. She has become a skilled song writer, and will use that skill as yet another way to reach her goal of financial freedom. Her other talents, such as crocheting, has given another leg up. She can crotchet many things, but she currently has developed a keen talent in making beanie caps. She has her own website (which I’ve been recruited to update). I help her achieve her goals by supporting all her efforts. I constantly nurture a good relationship with her, so that living together is an experience to be treasured.
My twentysomething is now, and has always been, spiritually well balanced. She talks to me about everything. We learn and grow together, even as I teach her about the world and the pitfalls she could encounter. I’ve taught her never to learn from her experiences alone, because she doesn’t have enough life to waste on re-learning what can be gotten from someone’s past experiences.
When she was ready to lose her virginity, I was the first to know. I taught her how to research, so she could look into various forms of birth control before embarking on her new adventure. I was then the first to know of her final decision, and the first to know after she experienced a new level of womanhood.
We’ve never had a fight. I teach, she listens and shares her opinion. We mutually respect each other and work to maintain that respect through clear conversations. As I wrote before, she is a balanced soul. There are times when it seems as though she’s been here before, an old soul returning to see how things are going. I’d like to think I had more to do with her personality than a past life. But I suppose I am forced to open myself to the possibility that I may have to share the spotlight where this amazing young woman is concerned. She is my chick.
When my phone rings, the majority of the time, it is Aviance. “Mommy, I love you,” is often what I hear on the other end of the line. Is she perfect? Not by any measure. No one is. Even as she struggles to gain economic freedom, she still has needs as a twentysomething. She’s still a part of this world that tips the scales when parents are off at work. Mass media does a fine job of making it nearly impossible for a young woman to not want to dress a certain way, or have certain things. So she struggles with this need to be a part of the twentysomething crowd in a way that makes her feel complete.
While some of her twentysomething views fall within the norm of this culture, a great majority do not. I’ve never had to deal with her having an inordinate desire to “some day” drink. And go out to clubs on the weekends, and other such things that many twentysomethings desire. She is free to come and go as she pleases, because she knows that in telling me where she is going, she protects her life.
As I write this, I wonder how my experiences can edify another parent. I’ve worked from the premise that if I taught my daughter from birth how to resolve conflict and avoid it as much as possible, our lives together would be nearly conflict free. I’ve tried to live by the rules I taught her; watch the mistakes of others and never repeat them.
My twentysomething chick is still learning and growing. She has the tools to exercise critical thinking. My job as a parent now is to be her mini library. And I must say, she uses me. She checks out my brain power on a regular basis, gets the information she needs, and uses it to help her in her pursuits. I’m starting to feel like a used book.
The neatest part is, she doesn’t eat much! My chick!
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