The relationship I have with my birth parents is weirdly wonderful – birth because I have many (2 mums in the US, a set of parents in London and another 3 in Kenya)

We keep our distance yet we are close, we share our emotions yet we hide to protect, we fight with each other and stay strong against the world and there is absolutely nothing that can be done to change the way this system works (Believe me, it has been tested and not close to being destroyed).

Mummy dearest.

Our wonderfully weird relationship was one I couldn’t understand when I was younger – Aren’t mums meant to be like those that you see on TV? Those that send you gifts and bake you cakes? Dress you up in pink because it is cute? More empathetic than the father, just because she resonates with you?

Let me tell you about my mum.

She is like all mums but different –

We don’t have the ‘lets go for coffee just because we can‘ relationship, we have the ‘I know what your up to, can i be on this plan with you?’ one.

She isn’t the one that says ‘I want to be your best friend tell me everything and we can giggle and dress up’ mum, she is the ‘You are independent, you make your own choices and believe me girl if you mess up, you will face the consequences from me, remember I am your mother, I have done it all’ type of mum.

She also isn’t the mum that says ‘Why aren’t you studying? You have finals tomorrow’, she is the ‘You love dancing and I will be at every practice and WHEN you excel, it doesn’t matter about missing your finals for when you have to compete half way across the world, i will be cheering you on‘ kind of mum.

She wasn’t the mum that hugged me all day and told me everything will be okay when I was sad, instead she hugged me once, asked me to be strong and always would say its never that serious, God has a plan.

She most definitely wasn’t the one that babied me and made me follow a path that she believed was the best for me, she instead let me make my mistakes (with a hell of a yelling after), unclipped my wings – with hesitance, and told me the world was mine and I could go and conquer – even though i knew it hurt her that I wasn’t going to be a room away from her.

That is my mum.

My father – My universal role model with a spoon of fear.

He wasn’t that father that videoed and attended every school play, practice, dance rehearsal or sports day – He instead chose to give me attention at home with school work, fly across the world to see me dance and personally congratulate me when i graduated.

He wasn’t the father that said ‘thats not my problem, talk to your mum, i don’t know what to do’ kind of a dad, he was the ‘Sit down, lets talk, whats bothering you and how are we going to solve it’ kind of a man.

He isn’t the dad that gave me everything I asked for just because he can kind of a dad, he was the ‘Do you know the value and importance for what you are asking for? And is it reasonable for you to have it?‘

He isn’t the dad that says ‘You have to have a job, be a dentist, go to the best school, get serious and start your life‘ kind of a dad, he is the ‘Go travel, go explore, find what you are passionate about and don’t worry too much’ kind of dad

He isn’t the dad – that is the typical dad, he is the dad, the philosophical dad. He isn’t the dad that only wants results, he is the dad that is invested into the process of getting those results.

They aren’t your stereotypical parents – they don’t follow the books of parenting, they show just enough unconditional love with a touch of tough!

Happy Anniversary – to the weirdly wonderful parents of mine.