Stephanie Joy Phillips
If I was a parent my life would have been different.
I would have worried about them on their first day of school, first date, first night away from home and on numerous other occasions throughout my life.
I would have felt my patience tested time, and time and time again and there would be arguments where I’d bite my tongue and others where I’d say something without thought and instantly regret my actions.
I would have listened to all of their concerns and my heart would break for each of their tears.
I would doubt my abilities to be a good enough parent and chastise myself when things seemed to go astray.
I would cherish every piece of art presented to me with a smile on their face.
I would feel proud of their achievements and unashamedly cry as a proud mum at nativities, sports days and graduations.
I would have taken them to explore rock pools and taught them to swim in the sea, and how to find joy in playing card games for fun, and not to win.
I would have read them my favourite childhood stories and hoped it inspired them to dream and discover new worlds.
I would have loved to see what else I would have been, if my dreams to be a parent had come true.
