- I became a mother at 18, despite never planning to have children.
- But I still prioritized my children, teaching them about culture and allowing them to be curious.
- My parenting must have worked because they’re becoming successful adults.
When I was younger, I never wanted children. Being responsible for another person felt overwhelming and exhausting. Honestly, becoming a parent was not for me, especially because I wasn’t motherly.
But there I was, at 18, pregnant with my first child. Impatient and easily annoyed, I was about to become a mother. With a growing belly, I attended my senior prom and high school graduation, watching my classmates embrace their newfound freedom while I faced a completely different reality.
The moment I found out I was pregnant, I knew one thing for sure: If I was going to do this, I had to do it right. There was no room for half-assing motherhood. I had seen too many examples of what happened when people weren’t intentional about raising kids, and I refused to let my child become a product of neglect or lack of guidance. Thankfully, it all worked out in the end.
I decided to embrace motherhood with determination
Parenting is a delicate balance. I had to not repeat the same mistakes my parents made while unintentionally making an entirely new set of mistakes. Still, my husband and I were determined to create a home prioritizing love, discipline, and honesty.
We approached parenting with a clear goal: We would lead by example.
I was young, but I wasn’t clueless. If I wanted my (now two) children to take school seriously, they had to see me taking life seriously. So, I set the standard. I worked hard, remained curious, and showed them what perseverance looked like.
I tried expanding their minds beyond the classroom
Beyond academics, I wanted them to have a well-rounded perspective on life. I gave them an appreciation for older music and different genres. Most kids their age know nothing about “Hotel California” or The Rolling Stones, but my kids do. I taught them to listen to the actual words of a song — not just the beat. Music is storytelling, and I wanted them to appreciate the artistry behind it.
I also taught them how to think for themselves, to question everything, and to not blindly follow what everyone else was doing. We had deep conversations about the world, about decision-making, and about the importance of logic.
They saw all the movies I loved growing up, including my favorites, “Forrest Gump” and “Clueless.”
I exposed them to all types of food so they could learn about different cultures and ways of cooking. I hoped they’d become curious about the world beyond their immediate environment.
My husband and I balanced each other out
To be honest, I was never a “fun mom.” My neurodivergence made me avoid crowds, and when I did try to be fun, it usually didn’t turn out well. I wasn’t the mom signing up for every school event or planning extravagant parties. That wasn’t and still isn’t my thing.
My husband, on the other hand, was the field trip dad. He chaperoned school outings, ensuring the kids had fun experiences while I recharged at home. He was also the homework helper when I just needed time to breathe. We balanced each other out.
Raising kids has never been about perfection. We realized it’s about being present, accountable, and honest. I never sugarcoated life for my children. I told them the truth, showed them the consequences of their actions, and reminded them that while they were loved unconditionally, expectations still had to be met. There were rules, but there was also space for laughter, real conversations, and the understanding that we were all growing together.
My kids are now excelling
I must have done something right. My 21-year-old daughter is currently in her junior year at one of Maryland’s top universities, excelling in her studies as a pre-med public health major.
My younger daughter, now in 11th grade, scored an impressive score on her PSAT and even received a letter from Stanford University inviting her to a summer program.
Looking back, I realize that the version of me at 18 — the one who never wanted kids, who feared she wasn’t “motherly” enough — had no idea what she was truly capable of.
Parenthood wasn’t something that came naturally to me, but I showed up every day, committed to doing my best. And, if my kids’ success is any measure of how I did, I’d say I didn’t do too bad after all.
