I’m so terrified of being a bad mother, I’d rather not be a mum at all sometimes

I was watching a mother-daughter duo on the tube today, how carefully the mum would adjust her daughter’s woollen hat, and started welling up with tears. She was clutching her little one’s hand tightly even sat down, as if she was terrified of loosing her amid the rush hour madness. I sympathised, thinking “if I ever have children, I would be paranoid of anything bad ever happening to them.” I caught the little girl’s eyes, and flashed her a smile. It was a bittersweet one, my eyes pleading for approval as if she was my own.

I arrived back home and fell unto the couch, my fingers quickly browsing through youtube. I have been binging on Dr Phil videos recently, and a new one popped up in my recommendations. Another episode of daughters blaming their shortcomings on their parents and vice versa. I feel my shoulders dropping from my long day amid their shouting. How come I seem to relax the most when listening to some stranger’s family drama? I bet Dr Phil would have a field day on that one.

My baby rats are squeaking from their cage, bouncing off the walls begging for attention. With four small pets, I spend hours cooing, cleaning and feeding them, wondering when I will find time to clean the dishes. Self-care and pet-care seem to be strangely interwoven these days, and I wonder what I’m trying to prove with all these pets. That I can take care of little ones? That I will be a good mother one day because I remember to get baby carrots for my rats?

Satisfied and exhausted from chasing them around the couch, I settle once more. Scrolling through my phone for a photo to edit for this blog post, my eyes are drawn to a mother and daughter holding hands on the tube platform. I play around with saturation, vibrance, brilliance; qualities I wish I had in life. I wonder where these two were going, who was waiting for them at home. I wonder if the mother would mind me snapping a photo of them two, if she would have entrusted me with her child incase of an emergency. Probably not though.
I can’t even remember if the little girl ever smiled back.

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