I thought I'd share a common conversation I have with my Mom.
It's not uncommon for someone who felt lost at some point in their life to contemplate their purpose in the world is. My Mom is convinced of my purpose and reminds me often. I thought I'd share my purpose in life according to her.
Just Some Background
Mom raised me to always put family first. Relatives came before anyone else. Family came before relatives.
Parents, especially the birth giver, came before other family members.
As Mom put it, she and my Dad brought me into the world and chose to care for me. They made sure I had everything I needed to live a modest life.
As an adult, my responsibility was to have my own family, cater to my husband, and raise my children to be successful and loyal. Oh, and I was supposed to repay my parent's love and care by caring for them in their golden years.
Mom was raised in a poor province in the Philippines. It wasn't uncommon for generations of families living and caring for one another in a single household.
Because resources were limited, a strong family bond was essential for survival. Elders relied on younger generations, specifically their adult children, to provide the care they needed in their golden years.
After living in the United States for over forty years, Mom realized that generations of families living under one roof isn't going to happen, but family bond and an adult child's responsibility to care for their parents are important.
During my teenage and younger adult years, I always put family before others and parents before other family members. I was also most depressed during this time. There were days I contemplated suicide because I questioned what my purpose in life was. It didn't make sense to me in my youth that my purpose was to be obedient and put myself last.
Honestly, Dad never asked anything of me. Well, that's not true. Dad asked me to put myself and happiness above all else. But Dad wasn't around much during my youth due to his active-duty service in the Air Force and my parent's hatred of one another.
I was raised solely by Mom. Mom preached her beliefs to me. Even as an older adult who doesn't believe or practice all she taught me; her words always linger in the back of my mind. Some said my Mom brainwashed me to believe and do as she say. That's probably true since I mostly dropped whatever I did to answer my Mom's calls and requests.
If Mom needed me to take a day off work to drive her to a doctor's appointment or visit family two hundred miles away, I took a day off. When I was a contract employee, this meant taking unpaid leave off from work. In retrospect, this wasn't the best decision since I couldn't afford to pay my bills each month with my paychecks when I didn't miss a day of labor.
When I moved to my current town a hundred miles away, Mom verbally expressed her disapproval. She complained that I was abandoning my responsibility as her daughter and a member of the family. pressured me to prove my love to her by visiting every weekend.
For years, I headed back to my old hometown Friday afternoons after work to be with family and help my Mom with whatever she wanted help with. As my nieces and nephews got older and closer to becoming young adults, most of my weekend visits were just for Mom.
I'd return home Sunday nights, or Monday nights on holiday weekends, in time for work the next morning. At the time, I didn't have any friends, so I didn't miss out on spending time with friends. However, catering to my Mom's wants significantly reduced my opportunities to meet new people like it did with a couple women we met in Vegas one year.
Foreshadowing Moment?
In the early 2000's, I drove my parents to Las Vegas a few times a year. Neither my parents liked to fly. We drove everywhere and only traveled within the mainland all my life. Starting in my early twenties, I was my parents' primary driver, especially for trips away from their towns.
I drove my Mom to the casinos she wanted to play at. If she wanted to play during the nighttime hours, I sometimes chose to stay even though I didn't like to gamble. I hated dropping her off, driving through nighttime traffic on Las Vegas Blvd. back to the hotel, and then getting a call from my Mom before I shut off the engine asking me to pick her up and drive her to another casino.
One night she introduced me to a couple Filipinas who invited us to dinner. They were a mother and daughter duo. The mother was in her nineties and the daughter in her sixties. The daughter traveled to the United States with her mother several times a year. They traveled to places her mother wanted to visit.
We spent several days with them. I would drive to their casino hotel to pick them up to spend a day with my Mom. Of course, I stuck around because I was the driver.
During those days, I learned a lot about the daughter in her sixties. She was a successful educator like me. She made a decent salary like I made at this point in my life. She was unmarried without children, just like me.
Unfortunately, I learned a lot more about her than I wanted to know. She lived alone most her life focused on work and her parents. After her father passed away, her mother moved in with her. Her mother's only happiness was being with her daughter and the trips they took together.
She, herself, never went anywhere or did anything she wanted. Her focus was on her mother. Because of this and work, she never gave herself an opportunity to meet new people, fall in love, or start a family of her own.
I remember a day when I told my Mom on the drive to their hotel that I wasn't staying. They would need to call a cab or hang out at that casino. I wanted to do something else (anything else!) with Dad and my dog, Shadow.
Mom spent the drive trying to convince me that driving them around was good practice for when we were both older. She explained that she saw us in them, and that was a promising sight to see.
I never saw them again, but I never forgot the conversations I had with the daughter. I feared that her life reflected what my life would become.
Why Mom Might be Right About My Purpose
In my thirties, I started focusing on myself more, but it was difficult since I was so used to focusing on others before myself. It felt selfish to think about myself, my needs, and my wants.
If you've read past blog posts or my About page, you probably knew that I've been unemployed for years now with the intent of focusing on my health and happiness. This would've been a great opportunity to try to meet new people, but the awkward introvert in me doesn't know how to.
If my friends are reading this, they're probably thinking it's weird that I'm saying this. After all, I was a social butterfly of sorts in the workplace. I communicated well with my colleagues, customers, and others. Some said that I boosted morale in the workplace with my wittiness, lighthearted pranks, and kind respect to all.
I worked hard to provide the best support to customers and stakeholders. I negotiated and worked well with difficult or unhappy individuals. I gave public presentations to large crowds, and I trained in classroom settings regularly. Even in prior jobs I presented daily to large crowds of hundreds to over a thousand people promoting my programs.
What my friends didn't know was that I would go home and cry on the days I was most social in the workplace. I was great at my job, but I suffered emotionally because of it. I don't know why being social is so hard for me, and I never met with a specialist to talk about. I just isolated myself from society when I could.
I tried bowling in league to meet new people and work on my awkward non-professional social skills. I figured being social while doing my favorite thing in the world would be easy. It wasn't easy.
I struggled to feel comfortable and normal on league nights. I convinced my friend to join thinking her presence would help put me at ease. Because of her, I did manage to stay in league longer than if she passed on joining.
But I still went home and cried after league. It was difficult to be social at work, head home to care for my dogs, and then head to league to be social again. I participated in league on Thursday nights and then had to work and be social the next day. Fridays were the worst days of the workweek for me until I decided not to join league the next season.
It seems like the older I get, the harder it is for me to feel comfortable in social situations. My friends tried introducing me to new people, but it's difficult for me to socialize and not feel uncomfortable. It feels selfish for me to talk about myself, and I realize talking about myself is the only way anyone would get to know me and decide if I'm worth getting to know better.
Because of this, maybe Mom's not entirely wrong about my purpose in life.
NOTE TO MY FRIEND, PIRATE REDD: Please know that the rumors you heard in the workplace were untrue. I quit league because of the reasons mentioned above. I didn't quit because you joined, otherwise I wouldn't have asked you to join for multiple back-to-back seasons. Duh.
My Purpose in Life According
For years when I was younger, Mom always told me and others that we needed to be married by the end of the calendar's year. By that, she meant it was necessary to be married by the time one turned thirty-one years old.
Marrying when I was older than thirty-one was too late to start a family. Most men were not attracted to older women (again, according to my Mom). Also, my children needed to be adults caring for themselves so that I could begin caring for her and my Dad in their golden years.
If you haven't figured it out, I didn't marry before my thirty-second birthday. On my thirty-second birthday, I recalled my Mom telling me that it was an extra special day. When I asked why that was, she explained that the day was a sign from God that I wasn't meant to marry and have children so that all my focus went to caring for her and my Dad.
Having a husband or children would only get in the way of my lifelong responsibility of caring for my parents.
I didn't expect to hear that from my Mom, but I wasn't all that surprised either. However, I was surprised the first dozen times she reminded me of my life's purpose.
In fact, I'm writing this post because she reminded me of my purpose in life during a phone conversation two nights ago. Mom assured me that she won't move in for several more years, but I needed to get my life in order before that day comes.
Mom told me I needed to get a job so I could afford to care for her. She encouraged me to return to my hometown where she is so that family can stay close together. It would be easier to care for her where she's comfortable instead of adding emotional pressure on having her move to a new, unfamiliar place.
My brother, his wife, and one of their adult children still lives near her. However, my brother and his wife are planning to retire to the Philippines in a few years, leaving my Mom alone in my old hometown. They offered to take my Mom with them back to her home country, but she insisted on staying in the United States since it's clear my purpose is to care for her.
During our recent phone conversation, she complained about how immature I am for my age. Believe it or not, I'm in my late thirties. I just happen to be young at heart and enjoy anything that brings me a bit of joy. I never let go of my inner youth.
Mom complained about how immature I am but said she may learn to deal with some of it if it meant I wouldn't meet anyone. After all, men don't like immature women (again, according to my Mom).
So, what about my Dad? Well, she's surprised he's still alive despite him being nine years younger and significantly healthier than her. She's not entirely convinced he'll still be alive when she's ready to move in with me. Mom said if he is, I need to provide them with a home where they both have their own space and don't have to interface with one another often.
If or when that day does come, I plan to have enough money to setup an indoor boxing ring so I can watch them duke it out when their hatred for one another resurfaces.
In all seriousness, Mom is convinced that I need to prepare for the day when I care for my parents full-time. Being unmarried without children is a sign from God that my purpose in life is to care for them the remainder of their lives.
This was a difficult blog post for me to write. I'm often embarrassed about things I said, did, or believed in my past. I almost didn't write this, but I reminded myself that writing is a great way for me to de-stress and that not many people will read this. There's no reason that I know of yet to feel embarrassed about sharing my past.
What's Next?
I feel a little less stressed after writing about my purpose in life according to my Mom. I think I'll play some video games and complete some craft projects. Anything to keep my mind occupied until I quit thinking about that phone conversation.
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Thanks, and have a great day!
Simply Jelly Jam
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