“He’s terrible. I’m not going to babysit him for a million dollars. I heard what those adolescent girls said about me. Every word was heard by me. You did, too.
It’s me, your obstinate, tenacious child. Mom, those girls have no idea how many hours you spend trying to figure me out. They are not aware of your tears. They have no idea how helpless and lost you feel.

You question whether you’re a bad mother. I’m always getting into mischief. At least, it appears so. I’m a rebel who is constantly pushing the boundaries. I’m never still. Ever. You’ve exhausted yourself emotionally, physically, and spiritually. And the girls’ comment pushed you over the edge. I’ve come to say “Thank you.” Raising a stubborn, strong-willed child is extremely difficult, Mom.

Instincts and intuitions are lost, right? The world views strong-willed, stubborn children as problems to be solved, with rebellious spirits to be tamed. I know it wasn’t easy raising me, but I’m here today because of you. Here are a few things I’d like to express my gratitude for. Thank you for pointing me to Jesus instead of making me conform. There are numerous resources available for parents of strong-willed children like me.

The majority of them demonstrate how to make me obey and conform. But you’re uncomfortable seeing me as a problem that needs to be solved. Perhaps you’ve realized that changing me causes more resistance. The particulars are unimportant. Here’s what’s important. You lean closer to Jesus rather than imposing your will. You put your trust in Him to get you through the difficult times, asking Him to do something you can’t…transform your heart.

Have you ever considered this, Mom? Almost every quality that was considered negative as a child is now considered positive in adults. A mischievous child grows into a curious adult. A defiant child grows into a determined adult. An obsessive child grows into a persistent adult. Do you see what I mean, Mom? What was considered negative as a child is now considered positive as an adult, traits that would be desirable in a CEO or something.

Thank you for cooperating with me rather than opposing me. I believe I was born wearing boxing gloves. I fight against everything. And I work hard. You, too, fought hard for a while. You recall the time, just before my third birthday. I refused to eat dinner, but you insisted on forcing me to? You said I wouldn’t leave the table until I took a bite of something, determined to win this one for all the parents of strong-willed children.

You sent me to bed two hours later after you noticed I wasn’t eating. I awoke at 5 a.m., yelling for food. Mom, I was starving. Something changed after that night. You took off your boxing gloves. You gave up trying to win. Not because you were aware that you couldn’t. You were well aware that I was not your adversary. You chose to empower me instead of overpower me.

Thank you very much, Mom. It’s insane. I took off my gloves when you did. You can see hints of it now. You’ll see it more clearly as time passes. Today, rather than asserting my will, I listen to others. I prefer to be collaborative rather than competitive. I’m not sure I’d be this way if you never took off your gloves. Thank you for teaching me instead of telling me. I want to know “why” behind everything.

It’s excruciatingly frustrating. I know. It is simpler to give me rules without explanations. “Because I said so” takes far less time and effort than your reasoning. But you choose to explain things to me, even though I’m only four years old.Here’s the deal. Even if it’s your flow, I don’t go with it. It’s not that I don’t trust you; far from it, mom. It’s because I’m curious as to why this is happening. It’s not about you. It’s part of my personality.

As a result, your hair will fall out in the shower. Or perhaps you take it out. Do you pull it out or do you cry, Mom? Never mind, let’s get back on track. Mom, my refusal to conform and to ask questions is a gift. My stubbornness will keep me from following the crowd in high school and college. I will make numerous mistakes. But, more often than not, I will make the correct decision over the simple one.

All of that processing, questioning, and pushing of boundaries is my attempt to feel out the world, not to disobey you. And as I think about your reasoning, I realize how important boundaries are. I can see why they exist. I understand you’re not preventing me from doing something. You’re shielding me from something bad happening.Later in life, when many people around me make bad decisions, I won’t, mainly because I’ve been there and done that.

Right now, I’m breaking rules and paying the price. Do you recall the five stitches I received for splitting my ear open? You instructed me not to climb the bookshelf. I didn’t pay attention. Boom! Sedation in the emergency room. Stitches. This was something I read in a book. I believe it’s called Originals. The author highlights the most successful entrepreneurs in the book.

He claims that as children, they are more likely to defy their parents, skip school, and gamble. But here’s what I find fascinating. Researchers discovered that the most successful entrepreneurs were far less likely to engage in risky activities as teenagers, such as driving drunk, purchasing illegal drugs, or stealing valuables. I’m not suggesting that I skip school as a teenager…or perhaps I am.

I know life is difficult right now, mom. But don’t doubt your influence or effectiveness as a parent. I’m a square peg in a round hole. But don’t give up hope. You’re a wonderful mother. Continue to point me to Jesus. Every single day. Jesus will use my stubborn, nonconforming personality for good. When faced with a difficult decision, I will choose what is right over what is easy. This choice may cost me friendships.

It could cost me my job, or even my life. But my personality won’t let me do anything else. I have to swim upstream. And who knows, maybe someone will decide to swim with me. This person may thus avoid imminent danger downstream. Even if it’s only one person, that person will be grateful you didn’t force me to conform. Mom, you’re incredible. Thank you for your bravery.

Thank you for never quitting. Thank you for persevering through the difficult times. Thank you for putting your faith in Jesus rather than a self-help book or an expert blog post. Mom, I adore you.