When I met my wife, I had to admit that we made a good team (Picture: Getty Images)
When friends and family would ask my wife and I if we were going to have children, our response was always the same.
‘No, sorry. Motherhood is not for us.’ We’d say with a wry smile and a shrug.
Inevitably, we’d then be met with the same six word sentence: ‘But you’d make such good parents!’
I’d always understood where their initial question had come from – after marriage, children were assumed to be the next natural step in our relationship, and for a few years, we really considered it.
As a same-sex couple, our journey would take a little more forethought and planning than most, but the option was always there.
However, the fact that we had to think, and I mean really think, about the prospect of procreating made me dig a little deeper both into my own feelings about motherhood and the impact my upbringing had on my maternal instincts.
Growing up, I had a difficult relationship with my mother.
She was an oppressive force in our home who seemed to resent my presence – which is, I suppose, the polite way of saying she was an abusive narcissist who, alongside having a smattering of OCD and low self-esteem, was clinically depressed for most of my childhood.
Many of my early memories are of Mum breaking down in tears or erupting into fits of violence for any minor contravention of her rules.
I lived within a system of checks and balances where every kindness had to be repaid somehow. For example, a lift to a friend’s house or new school shoes would require me to do housework as payment and the favour would be held against me indefinitely.
In her eyes, I was in constant debt for the mere fact of having been born, fed and having a roof over my head.
As such it quickly became clear to me that her love was anything but unconditional.
I couldn’t imagine what that feeling of companionship, love and trust with their parents must feel like
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But then, she could also be affectionate, was a fabulous cook and to my friends, was a charming and warm host who loved to entertain.
This Jekyll and Hyde personality made trust between us impossible – I could never predict how she would react to something or what kind of mood she would be in from one moment to the next.
As a teenager, I’d marvel at my friends’ relationships with their parents. They always seemed to be going on weekend breaks, girly shopping trips or sharing photographs with their mum on social media with the caption ‘my best friend’. None of which made sense to me.
I couldn’t imagine what that feeling of companionship, love and trust with their parents must feel like. I was envious.
My parents were together and I was lucky that I had a good relationship with my dad. However as I grew older, my mum became increasingly jealous of our close relationship, which …read more
Source:: Metro