Some things I Hope You’ll Understand One Day

I once heard someone say it’s easier to be a bad mother than a good one.

I’m trying my best for Teo.

Motherhood comes with a deep, gut-wrenching love. Sometimes I stare at my son and adore him so much that scary thoughts follow.

What if something bad happens to him? What if I hurt him?

Maybe it’s a mother’s instinct, awakened the moment you give birth.

Even after I raise my voice, he runs back to me and hugs me tightly. He calls me “mom” as if nothing happened. He still comes to me for comfort because he doesn’t understand anger yet. Children are the purest kind of human beings.

I love my son with every beat of my heart. After we put him to sleep, my husband and I sit together, scrolling through his photos, laughing at his videos, and admiring him all over again.

My son.

I want you to know that when Mom gets angry, it doesn’t mean I love you less. It’s only a moment of frustration, never a lack of love. Discipline should guide you, not hurt you. I never want to hurt you physically, and I’m afraid of becoming someone you might resent one day. That’s why your father and I are trying our best to choose patience.

We don’t want to be perfect parents. We just want to be good ones.

I dream that one day we’ll have the kind of relationship you see between your father and his mother. Close, respectful, still sharing life even as adults. A bond where, even when you have your own family, you come home not out of obligation but out of love.

I didn’t mean for this to be long. Lately, when I catch myself yelling, I carry guilt with me the rest of the day, wishing I could take those moments back.

I love you, anak.