I got my first taste of independence when I was around 4 years old and my mother let me walk to my grandmother’s house, around 5 minutes away, all by myself. I remember feeling elated. Almost grown up, like my mother! Over the years I would do a lot of things by myself, even though my friends weren’t allowed to. I would ride my bike on the Main Road, where the big cars and busses were. I would go grocery shopping alone, to the actual market with a different vendor for every item, not a single store with aisles and metal carts.
But with those solo explorations also came some rather unpleasant experiences which, had my mother known about them, would have had me locked in the highest room in the tallest tower. Needless to say, my mom only found out about some of these experiences when I wrote about them in a piece for The Swaddle.
In this piece, I reflected on my own experiences as a child, growing up in a scary world and, as a consequence, turning into a new parent already laying the foundation to wrap her child in bubblewrap. But luckily, a bit of good sense and wisdom from Mum, who does know best at least some of the times, prevailed, and I’m working on some of my control issues. Here’s a link to the whole story in The Swaddle.