Is There A Perfect Childhood?

Miriam Weiser

I am willing to bet that almost everyone you will encounter will have something negative to say about their childhood and upbringing. It is nearly impossible to find a single adult who doesn’t want to give their own children a better childhood than they themselves had.

Some of us, though, have had worse childhoods than others. This is not an article about comparing sorrowful lives. It is said that if everyone would put their troubles in a bag and all the bags would be laid out on a table for all to choose from, then each man would choose his own troubles back. No one ever knows what the next person is going through, and therefore, most people think that they have it or had it worse than they actually do or did.

My new book, Look At Me Now, describes the neglected childhood of a woman who has by now extricated herself from that quagmire and today helps many girls who are growing up with similar experiences. She recalls being helpless as a child, knowing that there was something awfully wrong but unable to do anything about it. She remembers how, as she grew older, her world looked bleak and dark, as though there was no future for her. How could one have a successful adult life when they were never taught the basics of humanity, of responsibility and of compassionate behaviors? Of right and wrong.

The protagonist endured a parental divorce, two wicked stepparents, and the ideology that she was never wanted where she was sent.

How many of us really felt so alone all throughout their childhood? How many of us had ugly voices following us on a nightly basis, asking “why is she still here?” How many of us could honestly say that possessing or not possessing certain toys, materialistic elements, or being allowed to attend camp or having family trips made their lives so terrible.

The worst thing that I can remember from my own upbringing is that I almost never got anything. And my mother always worked to pay the bills. Since she always worked and was therefore exhausted much of the time that she was at home, I, as the type of child that didn’t like to bother, as a people pleaser, did my chores quietly. I never expected to be paid for it. It never even occurred to me to ask for anything that I didn’t really need. Yes, I felt like I had no one to talk to, since my mother had her own issues to deal with and I didn’t think she was available to listen. In hindsight, I realize every day as I write other people’s stories, how difficult it must have been for my mother, and how she really did her best with what she was given.

Growing up is a difficult thing to do. But parenting, I could profess today, is even more so. Imagine two separate people from two separate upbringings, if you will, having a child, or having a family of children, each of those a different world entirely, wanting and needing myriad attentions.

Is it possible to give any child a one hundred percent perfect childhood? I would say, that as much energy as I put into my children’s lives, as open minded as I’ve been, and as much common sense I’ve used from experience and from learning as I went along, I’m sure there is a list, hopefully a small one, that each of them have as they grow into adulthood. And each child, as they grow up and start their own families, I’m certain, has things in mind that they would do differently.

It is because the world changes. And with it, expectations change, wants, and needs change and no matter what a parent does, there is always something the children would do differently. As they say, parenting is a thankless job. But those of us who know better understand that what we give to others, especially our children, pays back in droves. Not money, of course. Money only goes one way, usually. Good deeds, though, they come circling back in many different faces.

One of my daughters, as a teenager, once mentioned that she would be happy to send her future children to the same school she had attended. This statement made me immensely proud. It made me proud because it affirmed the fact that I had made the right choice with their school.

Am I looking for proofs that I had made the right choices? Am I that insecure about my choices? I am not. As I said before, as a parent, open-minded enough to learn from what I see and hear, and using common sense, I always tried to make the right choices, and I don’t have many regrets. But I don’t think that there is a single parent out there who doesn’t have at least something to regret. That is a human nature.

Especially if you are a Jewish mom. We have mother’s guilt ingrained in us, as much as we try to always do the right thing by our children, our marriages and ourselves as well. There’s gotta be some room for mistakes, no?

When I interviewed Rifka from Look At Me Now, I was shocked and disappointed that such a thing could happen to an innocent child. At least, it confirmed to me that my childhood was more than bearable. It also affirmed that my children’s lives were fabulous, and that I could stop feeling as guilty.

It is the way of the world, I have learned, that people go through horrific things. A lot of good things have been done to improve these circumstances. A lot of good work still needs to be done.

I write memoirs for people and most of the stories are about terrible childhoods. There are others, like the woman who wants to write a book about her deceased husband and what a special person he was. I never thought I would learn so much just from listening to other people’s stories. It makes me wonder if I am not one of the luckiest people in the world to have the kind of life I have been given. I feel ever more blessed each time I hear someone’s story.

Apparently, people have diverse ways of growing in their spirituality. Some read books of self-healing and discipline, of growth, and some go out and perform charitable deeds all day long. No matter what it is that you choose to do, don’t you feel like you want to do something?

As a writer who delves deep into other people’s lives, I’ve come to realize this is my way of growing.

Look At Me Now is available on Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, and book retailers.