I Will Not Settle -My Mother Already Did - by Letters From Delight ⁠♡♡

<img alt="" src="/media/inline_insight_image/Screenshot_20260408-151640.jpg"/>“My father didn’t send any female child to school in my family, so I am doing you a favor by sending you.” Those were the words of a mother to her child. There is a theory in Africa that many parents make life a living hell for their children. As a girl growing up in such a home, I can say for sure: some African parents feel like the closest creations to the devil. It is heartbreaking to hear others talk about how lovely their parents are and realize you cannot relate. You stand there in a moment of admiration that lasts only seconds before trauma slaps you back to reality. It is one thing to have African parents; it is another to have a mean mother—one void of sympathy or expressions of love. In Nigeria specifically, expressing your emotions is viewed as rebellion. If you confront a parent who has hurt you, you are automatically tagged as rebellious or the "black sheep" of the family. Because of this, so many children have turned to suicide; the average Nigerian child is essentially the living dead. My mother settled for less, and it breaks my heart daily. I am caught in the trap of having an incompetent father and realizing that my mother is, in many ways, worse.<img alt="" src="/media/inline_insight_image/Screenshot_20260408-171939.jpg"/> When parents think money is a compensation for mistreatment, they make parenting transactional instead of unconditional. You don’t know what life truly is until you have a patriarchal mother—one who drank from the well of patriarchy and forcefully tries to sell that standard to you. You don’t know pain until you have a mother who refuses to make the world stand still for you (because I know that's what mothers do). Sometimes, I wish children could choose their families before being brought into existence. Navigating a life you didn’t choose, while the people who birthed you remain a constant thorn in your flesh, is an exhausting burden. I guess a truly supportive home is a rare miracle few actually receive. I wish I had a mother who made me her best friend. I still desire a mother who loves me unconditionally, without expecting anything in return.<img alt="" src="/media/inline_insight_image/Screenshot_20260408-173339.jpg"/> As a woman, one of the most exceptional things you can do for your unborn children is to choose the best father for them as you choose a husband for yourself—finding both in one person. A mother should protect, not destroy. Unfortunately, I have experienced the opposite. A mother’s role is so crucial that if it is downplayed, it can lead to the total destruction of a child's mental health. Oh, to be able to talk to your mother about anything without being judged.To believe your very first cheerleader is the one who birthed you.To have a mother who doesn't discredit your effort or compare you to others. To be truly loved is to be seen by my mother—not just by my partner or my friends. Oh, to say, “Mummy, I think I like a guy!” and hear, “Come over, my girl! Tell me about this new crush. Why are you having so many butterflies?”. Rather than being called a sinner or backslider. Oh, to say, “Mummy, I failed,” and hear, “It’s not the end of you, and it doesn't change how I see you. It doesn't define you. I love my girl anyway.” Rather than being cursed. Oh, to have every good thing you can imagine from a mother. The comfort of finding a friend in a mother—a bliss I have never tasted and might never know.I hold all this bliss in imagination, never in reality. I imagine celebrating Mother’s Day without thinking about the lies written in a caption just to please an audience. To not hide your mother from the world, but to showcase her with pride. To have a mother who loves herself before any man—because you cannot give what you do not have. If you don’t have love for yourself, you cannot give it to your children. I dream of a mother who would never settle for less. And if you think "settling for less" only means financial lack... I’m sorry, but financial lack is the barest minimum. It means choosing an emotionally intelligent partner. A man who isn't just a provider, but a giver—one who gives without being asked. A man who creates a bond with his kids and thinks beyond the confines of religion. A man who takes responsibility, raises his family, and treats the mother of his children like a real-life Disney princess. A man who is truly a MAN. "someone who's financially comfortable but emotionally bankrupt. A partner who lacks depth; conversations stay on the surface and vulnerability feels foreign. Who can buy things but can't give presence. Who can fund a lifestyle but can't build a life". This is not a partner/father - just emptiness dressed up in expensive clothes. Maybe in another life. Perhaps a perfect mother—because I know they exist. I hope I become everything good I never got to my children. I hope the traces of this trauma do not affect my relationships. <img src="/media/inline_insight_image/Screenshot_20260408-173319.jpg"/>I hope there will be more to me than there is to my mother.

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