Change marks the end of one thing and the start of another. Depending on our perspective, we may be happily focused on the joy of the new, or mourning the loss of the old.
I’ve been divorced for a few years now, and there has been a mix of both, sometimes in unlikely places. The one thing I’ve learned along the way is that perspective makes all the difference.
An unconventional mom
I took a few days off last week, giving myself a 5-day weekend leading up to Mother’s Day. I didn’t really plan it that way. In fact, I had kind of forgotten Mother’s Day was coming up. I had no expectations going into the weekend, other than spending time with the boys, the last chance for a while.
For those of you that may not know, I have a 12 year-old son. Additionally, I’m the American mom of a 24 year-old college grad. He’s our former foreign exchange student and my son’s “older brother.” Due to COVID, he’s spent the last 2 months with us, finishing his degree and preparing to start his first full-time job.
I always wanted two kids. I never expected that I’d officially adopt one and unofficially adopt another. Sometimes we receive what we want in ways we don’t expect.
The college grad leaves in a few days, and it is unlikely the three of us will have this kind of time together again. Wanting some memories that included more than the same four walls for 2 months, I took 5 days and planned out a few social distancing day trips.
An unconventional Mother’s Day
Following divorce, holidays, birthdays and other events change. When we’re married, we may have expectations of how our spouse shows up to those events and/or helps guide our children. When they are no longer in the picture, expectations have to shift.
I have no expectations of my son on Mother’s Day. I read all sorts of wonderful things that other kids did for their moms that day. It truly is fantastic and a joy to see breakfast in bed or hand-made gifts my friends receive. I have no expectations of the same. If I want something, I do it for myself.
That’s right. I plan my day. It’s mom’s day after all, so I decide what I’d like to do. The only ask I have of my son is that he participates, since I always plan something for us to do together.
This time, the three of us went to the Blue Ridge Parkway. It was someplace I visited when I was my son’s age and had not been since moving to NC 18 months ago. I wanted to see the mountains and do a hike or two. And I was dragging the boys out with me.
By anyone else’s standards, it was not a perfect Mother’s Day. There was no card. I made my own breakfast. My son woke up crabby. But it was absolutely perfect.
The kid ate and got a grip. We got a photo together – the one thing I ask for every mother’s day. I made myself one of my favorite meals. And I had hours and hours of time with my boys.
Life is what we make it
I could focus the negative aspect of Mother’s Day as a single mom. Instead, I see it as an opportunity.
Looking back, I had expectations of my spouse that he rarely lived up to. I sat back and judged when things were put together last minute, with seemingly little care. The negative was so easy to find when I was looking for it.
Now that it’s all up to me, I do what I want. I only have myself to blame if something isn’t going how I’d like. I can either be upset, or I can adjust and move on. It’s a lot harder to sit with judgment and unmet expectations when it’s directed within.
This Mother’s Day, I was reminded that we all have the opportunity to adjust our perspective. We can decide to see something as a negative (I’m making my own breakfast on Mother’s Day) or a positive (I’m having my favorite meal for Mother’s Day). Same event, different view.
How often do we have the opportunity to shift our perspective in our lives and careers? Do we jump to the potential, benefit, or gift in a situation, or immediately perceive the negative?
What a difference it would make if we actively decided to shift negative perceptions into something that works for us or brings us joy. We each have that choice, every day and in every moment, so choose well my friends.