Divorce, 22, and Parenting—The “One Single Phrase” I Believed In

This is a record of my parenting.
It is also a story of the “quiet pride” of my life as a mother.

Divorced at 22.
To me, broken in both heart and body,
a single phrase from the director of my children's nursery school one day became the foundation of all my parenting.

The “one single phrase” I believed in back then.
And how that phrase has led to the happiness I have now.

I have written down that story.

“Mom, if you pour your love and care into them until they are six,
your children will make you happy in return.”

When my children were attending nursery school,
the director once told me that.

I was 22 at the time. My daughter was three, and my son was not even one. Having gone through a divorce and feeling broken in body and soul, I didn't really understand what those words meant.

But—for some reason, I wanted to believe them.
And so, I made up my mind.
This was the beginning of “my parenting.”

My goal for parenting was simple and clear.

“To nurture the power of self-reliance.”
“To raise them into people who have the capacity to feel.”

And above all,
“To ensure they can live with firm boundaries, knowing that they are themselves and others are others.”

As they say that children are “in the hands of God” until they are six,
during this period when about 90% of the brain is developed,
I faced them with “everything I had.”

I played with all my might,
and I hugged them with all my might.
On birthdays and Christmas, I added one or two picture books to their presents.
I read those books to them every night before bed until they were in the lower grades of elementary school.
Because I wanted to nurture their imagination.

On days off, we went to places with greenery.
We took packed lunches and ate under the blue sky in parks or open spaces.

When my children said they wanted to do something,
I always asked for their reasons, and if they had one, I would encourage them by saying, “Okay, give it a try.”

When they were hesitant,
I watched over them, saying, “There are some things you won't know unless you try.”

It's not that I didn't have any wishes for how I wanted them to turn out.

But seeing the two of them growing up so straight and honest, I suddenly realized:

“This is not my life.”
“These children have their own lives.”

My children are not my possessions.
I just need to reach out when they are in trouble.
If they are suffering but can't say it, I just need to notice and speak to them.

Holding back the urge to interfere,
I learned that to foster the “ability to think and solve problems on their own,”
it is also necessary to “watch over them, believe in them, and endure.”

Now, my children have grown up—truly wonderfully.
I am sincerely proud of them.
And I respect them.

The words of the nursery school director from back then.
“Mom, if you pour your love and care into them until they are six, you will be happy.”—

Those words were true.

I am very happy now.