Kamil was talented, ambitious, always full of dreams.
My son, Kamil, has always been my pride. I raised him alone since his father left when Kamil was only five. I did everything to make sure he lacked nothing – I worked overtime, denied myself pleasures, just so he could have a better life. I wanted to be not only a mother, but also a rock he could always rely on.
Kamil was talented, ambitious, always full of dreams. When he got accepted to college in another city, I was proud, but also full of fear. „Mom, I'll manage,– he assured me as he packed his bags. „You don't have to worry about anything.”
That's how it was at first. Kamil called regularly, talking about classes, new friends, life in the dorm. I was happy that he was doing so well. But requests quickly started coming in.
“Mom, I need money for books,” he would say, and I would send the money without hesitation. “Mom, I don't have enough for food, everything is so expensive.” And I would transfer the money again, telling myself it was only temporary.
Over time, the requests became more frequent, and the amounts bigger. “Mom, my friends are planning a trip, and I don't want to be the only one staying at home.” “Mom, I have to buy a new laptop, the old one can't handle it anymore.” Every request was justified, every request sounded logical, but deep down I felt something was wrong.
After college, Kamil rented an apartment with friends. "This is adulthood,– he told me with a smile. "Now I'm starting my life.” I was proud, but I didn't expect that my financial support wouldn't end when he moved out.
"Mom, I need money for rent,– he said one day. "I haven't found a job yet, but it's only a matter of time.”
"Okay, Kamil, but you have to start becoming independent,– I replied, feeling a little tense.
„I know, mom, it's only temporary– he promised.
But months passed, and the situation didn't change. Every conversation ended with another request for money. Rent, bills, food, even parties – everything seemed like my responsibility. When I tried to ask why he wasn't looking for a job, Kamil brushed me off with excuses. „The market is tough, mom. I need time.”
One day I gathered my courage and said it directly: „Kamil, I can no longer finance your life. You have to take responsibility for yourself.”
His reaction was a shock to me. „Really, Mom? After everything I've done for you, now you want to leave me high and dry?– he said reproachfully.
„What have you done for me, Kamil?– I asked, not believing my ears.
„I've always been a good son, Mom. I've always been there for you. And now, when I need help, you turn away from me.”
Those words were like a punch to the heart. Was I really a bad mother? Or did I create a situation where Kamil thought I was obligated to pay for everything he needed?
Today, our relationship is strained. Kamil still expects me to support him, and I increasingly feel like an ATM, not a mother. I wonder if I made a mistake somewhere. Did I protect him too much? Did I not teach him what it means to be responsible?
Every day I ask myself: am I really helping him or am I just letting him avoid adulthood? And will he ever stop expecting me to solve his problems?
A mother's love is a beautiful thing, but today I see that sometimes it can also be a trap. Maybe, paradoxically, too much care can do more harm than good.
See what else we've written about in recent days: From Life. “My mother-in-law keeps criticizing me, and my husband doesn't stand up for me”: I feel like an intruder in my marriage