Growing Up Together
There’s something no one tells you about becoming a mom at 18: you don’t just raise your child you grow up with them. While Aiden was learning to hold his head up, I was learning how to hold my life together. While he was learning his first words, I was learning how to use my own voice for the first time. While he was taking his first steps, I was figuring out how to walk through a world that didn’t expect much from me. We were both new to everything. We were both learning each other. We were both stumbling and getting back up sometimes at the exact same time.
As he got older, I realized how much of my identity had been shaped by motherhood. Most young adults spend their early twenties finding themselves, trying new things, traveling, making mistakes, changing their minds without consequence. I didn’t have that luxury. Every choice I made echoed into someone else’s future. Every step I took had to be steady, even when I felt anything but. Raising Aiden taught me something I don’t think I would’ve learned otherwise…there is strength in building a life slowly, intentionally, piece by piece even when you had to start earlier than everyone else.
He became my why. I worked harder because he was watching. I healed (and continue to heal) deeper because he deserved a mother who wasn’t living through her wounds. I pushed myself further because I wanted him to know that beginnings don’t define endings. There were years where it felt like the world was yelling at me to “do better,” “be more,” “prove you’re not just a teen mom statistic.” And quietly, steadily, I did. Not for them… but for him.
I figured out how to pay bills. I figured out how to build routines. I figured out how to keep promises I was terrified to even make. And through every chapter of my adult life heartbreak, rebuilding, surviving loss, becoming a partner, starting a career, having more children it was Aiden who taught me what love with purpose looks like. I healed parts of myself because of him.
There were things I carried from my childhood that I didn’t want to pass on. Cycles I was determined to break. Patterns I refused to repeat. Raising him forced me to confront things I had buried deep….pain I had been taught to ignore, feelings I had been told to swallow.
But when you’re raising a child, you start asking yourself different questions: What did I need at his age? What did I wish someone had done for me? How can I be the safe place I always wanted? And suddenly, you’re not just parenting your child you’re reparenting the younger version of yourself who never got those things. The truth is, Aiden saw me before I ever truly saw myself. He saw me try. He saw me fail. He saw me apologize and get back up. He saw me stay up late studying, go to school, juggle responsibilities I wasn’t even sure I was equipped for. He saw me become the woman I needed to be one step, one choice, one sacrifice at a time. And now, looking at him…a boy who grew with me, who softened me, who anchored me ….I realize the world had it backwards. They said being a teen mom would ruin my life. But they didn’t understand: He wasn’t the thing that derailed me, he was the thing that rooted me.
He gave my life direction long before I had the maturity to understand how meaningful that was. And as he grew, our roles shifted. He didn’t just need me but I needed him. His laughter pulled me through some of my darkest seasons. His little arms around my neck made every sacrifice feel worth it. His milestones became proof that I didn’t fail, even when I thought I might.
We grew up together and we’re both better for it. Aiden taught me patience, resilience, and how to love without conditions. He taught me softness in moments where the world felt hard. He taught me how to choose myself by showing me what unconditional love can build. And now, when I look back at that scared 18-year-old girl in the bathroom holding a positive test… I don’t judge her. I don’t pity her. I don’t wish she had done it differently. I just wish she knew what I know now: that the baby she was terrified to tell the world about would become the person who changed her entire life for the better.
He didn’t just make me a mom. He made me a fighter. He made me a nurturer. He made me a protector. He made me someone who refuses to quit. And the most beautiful part? He has no idea how much he saved me.