Two of my friends, who are in their fifties, were sharing stories about their respective sons, who happen to be in their early twenties.
One friend, who sends money to his son every month, who is studying in the US, told that one day all of a sudden, his son asked for more money this month.
When asked about whether all was good, the son replied that he had a girlfriend and needed some money.
Few weeks later, when this son was back in India with his parents for a vacation, received a text from this girl. She breaks up, saying we are not right for each other. The son replies in assent, and also tells this to his parents.
The other friend, was telling the story of a day when her son had left strawberries at home before leaving for the day. She was quite worried as a mother as to what would the son do if he were hungry during the day.
Later during the day, the son texted a pic of him eating strawberries, that he had asked his girlfriend to bring along. He was calming her down, with the reassurance that he was being taken care of.
Both these instances left me thinking deeply.
To be candid for the first time in public, I was waiting for “him” to send that message to me that we are breaking off, yet never received one. Nor a call back.
That’s not the worst part. Worst part is, I was at home, with my parents, already suffering and unable to share my grief with them.
Because had I shared it with them, they would have either gotten super angry with me for “being in a relationship” or perhaps they would have told me to “forget him”.
Neither of those would’ve helped.
It was so easy for that son to tell his parents that his girlfriend had broken up. I wish it were equally easy for all of us, we would have had way lesser cases of depression and anxiety.
Love and acceptance is the only solution. Especially when they least deserve it.