These new adults be like, “nobody calls to help me with anything.” We talk about their entitlement and how it’s so ridiculous, annoying, disrespectful, etc. I’ve said how I think we gave them everything we didn’t have, and cushioned them from as much disappointment and hurt as we possibly could, and how that was probably too much.
Allow me to add that some of us in the #singlemamasaga have hidden, eaten, sucked up too much of the authentic adulting-while-single-parenting experience. We cried into the pillow, talked to our friends in secret, and other things they never witnessed. They never saw the heartbreak that came with the abandonment. They saw us do things, but not how we fought through so much to do them.
Like we don’t say: Your daddy opted out.🤷🏾♀️ He absolutely did. He heard about you and said he wasn’t ready; pass. Then he went on about his life like nothing had happened. He had other kids too, but he’s been active in their lives.
It’s frowned upon, I know, but these aren’t little kids anymore. I don’t have a problem saying he’s selfish, and I didn’t have the energy or desire to fight him in court as if he didn’t know you would consistently require food, clothing, shelter and a continuous supply of socks and underwear as you grew. Among other things. When I did go to court, he did everything but pay the child support. Yup.
We lacked the resources to afford either of us the kind of life you would’ve wanted for us. You want plane rides and family vacays on pretty beaches, and so do I. You know what else would’ve been nice? A partner. Some times where I wasn’t stressed about everything. How am I paying this, getting that, or signing you up for the trendy summer camp on this take-home?
Even if that dude made $80K/year, we lost out on an average of $100K/year as a family because if he was active in this unit, I probably would’ve made more because I wouldn’t have been rushing home every time something happened, and/or I could’ve put in more hours doing a job I did like instead of being home before 6pm to cook dinner and nag you about your homework.
But I didn’t have a financial partner for most of your life. You got me and my meager salary, tired body and angry disposition. You also got a mama who was smart enough to pick up several side hustles over the years to fill in some blanks. I’ve sold a little of everything, except insurance and drugs. I did have that one husband, though. He made more than me, and he did all the things. Sadly, we broke up. Eventually got divorced. Now here we go again. You and me.
Yeah, we shielded them from some harsh truths and they hiss at us because we’re right there. I’m tired of being an emotional dumping ground/punching bag, so here’s an idea: Social media is vast, my child. Go find that man and tell him what you always tell me about ruining your life and not saving you from whatever. Let him have a turn–or SEVERAL.
Some of these new adults aren’t products of single-parent households, but rather grew up with two active, loving, supportive parents. But they too have the entitlement. These young adults had all the bells and whistles, but haven’t realized it’s their turn to provide–for themselves and their offspring. Here are the reins; have at it. No, they’re like I still get support. I still get bailed out. Where’s my free car and stuff? What is this work you want me to engage in? I don’t like how that manager spoke to me; I’ll just stay here being opinionated and difficult until I find something I like. Clutching my pearls….
That’s the common thread, whether these young adults had everything, or lacked many things. For some reason, they all seem to believe that a lifeline is mandatory. Like aid is plentiful and expected. They judge their elders for not carrying the load indefinitely, because they’re our children. No, you’re our OFFSPRING. Adults handle their own affairs, like I did and still do.
We gave you the tools. We provided the example. We walked the walk. Showed you how to do all of it. Now go on. The training wheels must come off. I’m here for support and encouragement, but I’m letting go now. You can do it! Go!
It doesn’t matter whose young adult I speak to these days, they do not comprehend the generational hand-off. The point where this generation and the previous ones get to sit down and be served at the cookout YOU organize for a change, because we organized and served at the ones before. We were teaching you how to do all the things. Go do them.
No, these young adults are reminiscing about the good ol’ days when we parents were in our 20s and 30s, helping our mothers and aunties arrange, cook and clean for events they thoroughly enjoyed. Now in their 20s, they ain’t cooking though. They ain’t bringing no sodas or side dishes either. They’re waiting for us to have the thing catered. 😳🤨😲😯😮😡🤬 You paying?!🤑 Nah. SMH.
I generally like to offer solutions when I write. I’m at a loss here. I do, however, believe my grandchildren’s generation might be our saving grace. We’ll possibly have to skip this one generation as far as carrying the torch goes. Though they seem very enlightened on trauma and blame and know all the psychological buzz words for what’s gone wrong in their lives and environments (it’s all our fault), they’ve apparently succumbed to their anxiety and refuse to seek actual coping skills or mental health remedies.
Maybe that’s the solution. Pour into the grandkids and their generation, but with an aim to enrich them rather than enable them. So basically, we can’t even spoil our grandkids and give them gifts like all the time, while expecting their parents to do the hard work of teaching them life skills and useful stuff. Because aren’t a lot of us raising the grandkids too now? SMH, I do not have the answer. That’s not how any of this is supposed to work.
It is what it is. But I’m definitely on board with that find your daddy on social media and tell him how you feel idea. I know his name, SSN, his mama’s name, where they used to live, and a few other things that might help. I’m probably friends with his cousins on Facebook. Start there. 😉 Still SMH.
From the Mind of Tonya D Floyd, Author•Real Estate Professional•Lifestyle Consultant