I had to fill out a survey this week and it asked me if I had any dependent children. For the first time in 21 years, I ticked no. While I'd like to think my children depend on me for all sorts of things - unconditional love, the occasional transfer of funds, maybe dinner now and again, even late-night company for Love Island - I know deep in my bones they are no longer dependent on me.
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I'm quite sure they'd both be able to look after themselves if push came to shove. They'd probably both find it a lot harder than they think they would, because adulting is a lot harder than you think it is. But they'd cope. One of them is much better than the other but I'll let them figure out which one that is. She'll know.
Because while they'll always be my babies, they are adults now. It's been a heady few years navigating that new relationship, where we're all adults, and it's something that's brought me as much joy as the early years did, despite all the work involved.
One thing I know for sure is that this new relationship does not involve us being friends. I love them both more than anyone in the world but we are not friends.
Here's why that's hit me today. I was watching the final few episodes of My Mum Your Dad. Yes, I know I touted it as the best dating show on television but now, I don't know. Look, it probably is but shows such as Married at First Sight, Love Island and Love is Blind don't really set that high a bar, do they?
The longer I've watched it, the less I've enjoyed it. Roe's a douche who says he wants a deeper connection and not just sex and then proceeds to act in an overtly sexual way. Michelle's matched up with hapless Heath, who's telling her everything she wants to hear (or he thinks she wants to hear) and you just know she's going to leave the show and slip into the DMs of Darren and Neil. It's getting as depressing as dating is in real life at a certain age.
But I digress. This story isn't about dating. It's about parenting. If you've missed My Mum Your Dad, it's a dating show where the single parents have been given a second chance at love. What they don't know is that their adult children have been watching their every move.
In this latest episode, the parents had to write a letter to their children to thank them for giving them the opportunity to be on the show. While they were all full of heartfelt emotion, there were a few which really irked me.
Petula, who seems one of the more level headed of the contestants, told her son Drhys that he was her "first love".
MORE Karen Hardy:
"From the moment I held you in my arms, my heart was complete ... I needed you more than you needed me and you saved me then just like you saved me when you stepped in as my protector when I thought my life was spiraling out of control."
The kid's only 21. Talk about pressure. No child should have to step in as a protector for their parent. Yes, her story's different. Drhys' dad died when he was only a few months old, her second marriage lasted 15 years. But still.
I remember when my own marriage ended, my son, then only 12 or so, felt a little confused about his place, the only man in the house when he was with me. It created some tension for a while but we worked it out when I reminded him I was the parent. And our relationship was not equal.
Michelle wrote to her daughter Chloe that it's been a "massive challenge" doing something without her. Just this week I read how this pair, mother, 51, and daughter, 21, had been matching with the same men on dating apps, until Chloe gave her mother a good talking to. Michelle, you are the mother here. Grow up.
I know, from my time being a single parent, that there were occasions, early on, where this relationship was conflicted. There was nobody there to take care of you, to lean on, and you did turn to your children for that emotional support. It wasn't the right thing to do.
My kids and I have decided we would be friends - if I was their age - we've a bit in common outside of our DNA and we'd get along.
I like the nights where we cook a meal - well, I cook a meal - and we schlep on the lounge watching bad television, where we crack jokes and stir each other up, laugh and carry on like friends would.
But they know I'm their mother, not their friend, and I'm still happy to parent them if I have to. They're not my best friends, they're just the best.
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