The most painful thought is that this child could feel the difference, even if I give all the silence to hide it. Photo. Shutterstock
I have two children I love with all my being. But this summer, when we spent a lot of time together, without a clear and without rules as strict as during the school year, a reality hit me: although I love one of them, I like it more.
It was extremely difficult for me to write the above sentences. But even harder it was when this thought struck me. I was put a knot in my throat, because the love of the mother does not have to be only unconditional, but also straight, fair, right? What you give to one you give the other. What you feel for one you have to feel for the other. At least that's the theory. But here, in my case, the joy of staying around one of the children is not the same as being in the company of the other. The admiration I have for one of them and the way I resonate with him are not in the case of the other.
It challenges me, forces me, presses my old buttons
One of them is calm, cooperative, understanding, empathetic. It makes my life easier. We joke together, it adapts easily, it is sensitive to my emotions and the others in the family. I like to spend time with him – because it's simple, because he doesn't challenge me every step. The other is a volcano. It explodes when your world is dearer, everything is a fight and a negotiation with it, it has an iron will and a need for huge control. I love him enormously, but he gets tired of me. It challenges me, forces me, presses old and painful buttons. And the fact that I don't like him in his volcanic moments is hard to go.
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