(Click HERE for the video version of the article.)

As a parent of three beautiful children, who is also a full-time, health professional and manager, I often struggle to balance home and work, let alone “me time.” Among the challenges I encounter is supporting the growth of individualism within my children, and the pursuance of personal truths that often emerges from this, when it is easier to uphold the “fall in line” mentality that we often see. Don’t get me wrong. There is value in the cooperation skills that can be gained, and a comparative mechanism for skill-set assessment that can occur, from having children collectively learn/work together in a similar manner. At the same time, this does little to promote unique thought or a healthy entitlement for questioning.

About a week ago, I was driving and, as the traffic light turned red, I pulled up behind an SUV. It had a bumper sticker on it that I had never seen before, which read, “Proud parent of great kids who are sometimes assholes. And that’s okay.” As I laughed alone in my car, I quickly realized how much I resonated with this. My children are amazing! I’m often very proud of them. On the other hand, they can also be the most annoying, most frustrating, little monsters I’ve ever met. But, yes, this is okay. It really is! They are demonstrating their own version of individualism–albeit, not always in the form that I would recommend. I think that’s where we, as parents, can come into the picture, promoting more constructive ways to explore individualism and seek truth.

Since becoming a mother, I find myself occasionally reflecting on my experiences as a child. I’ll analyze what my mother and father did well, and upon what I might like to improve. Undoubtedly, there is a plethora of items in both the “good” and “bad” category. However, there was this one amazing, perhaps unintended, gift that my parents gave me: existential self-discovery. This particular gift was perhaps the strongest contribution to my individualism and search for truth.

While my mother and father grew up Episcopal and Jehovah’s Witness, respectively, and thus frequenting church, I grew up without “assignment” to a formal religion. (This made things quite interesting when having to respond to the “religion” field on government documents.) Sure, I learned about many stories in the bible, and who many of the key figures were throughout religious history, but I was also free to write school reports about the Muslim religion and the history of witchcraft. I was able to celebrate Jewish holidays with high school friends, while supporting a college companion during her in-house baptism. I’ve studied Zen Buddhism and I routinely explore documentaries on Christianity.

In short, I have no “religious home.” Instead, I have something that I value much more: the courage to individually, and continuously, seek the truth, while also respectfully learning from others. I’ve taken my parents’ gift of providing a foundation to existentialism, creating myself into an everyday Gnostic, where I have the opportunity to freely pursue individualism and truth. I’ve become an understanding adult, with my own, evolving set of beliefs. And for this, I am eternally grateful.

Still, I question the quality of my contribution to a similar expression of individualism with my children. After all, life is easier when your kids are “great” rather than “assholes,” right? Well, I’m no longer so sure about that. While chaos can readily ensue when expected norms or routines are not upheld, it’s really okay. There is value in it. Although it may not be intended, allowance for deviation from the norm, whether it be within the realm of religion or elsewhere, can be a previous gift. Ultimately, this is the type of gift I aspire to give to each of my children.

(Click HERE for the video version of the article.)