Dear Teen Mom: I Hear You, I Know You, I Am You

Dear Teen Mom, 
You are not alone. And I know people say that, but I mean it in a way that reaches all the isolated parts of you. The thoughts you don’t say out loud, the fears that sit heavy in your chest, the way everything in your life is shifting, and you don’t know if you’re ready.

I know what it feels like not to even know how you feel. To be excited and terrified at the same time, like your emotions can’t decide which one to lean into. To sit there and wonder, "Can I even do this?" To watch your friends laughing, partying, living exactly the way they’re supposed to at their age, while you feel yourself slipping further and further away from them.

There’s a deep kind of loneliness in that.

I know what it feels like to watch your body become something unfamiliar, to stare at yourself in the mirror and hate how much bigger you’re getting, to feel like you’ve lost control over something that used to be yours. And the emotions, oh my god, the emotions. One moment, you’re okay, the next, you’re drowning in thoughts you don’t even know how to process. It’s terrifying.

You’re supposed to have answers, supposed to do everything right, supposed to keep it together when the truth is - you’re still a child yourself. You don’t even fully know who you are or who you strive to be yet, and now somehow, you’re supposed to be the entire world for someone else. To teach them how to be them.

It’s okay if you’ve questioned keeping the pregnancy. It’s okay if the thought of abortion has crossed your mind, if you’ve sat there with that possibility and felt sick about it. It's okay if you went through with it, too. That doesn’t make you a monster. It makes you someone who is trying to grasp the reality of what’s happening to you.

And then there's him, the dad. A part of you still believes in him and hopes for the best. But another part is scared… scared he’ll leave, that maybe you’re holding him here when he doesn’t really want to stay. There’s this quiet fear that people are already judging you, whispering that this isn’t fair to the baby, to him, to you. That you’re both too young, too unprepared. They say you don’t really understand love yet, let alone how to build a life together as a family. And maybe part of you worries they’re right.

Some people are waiting for you to fail. Some are watching, expecting you to prove them right. And that? That is brutal.

I know what it’s like to be scared to provide when you don’t even know how to drive, when you’ve never worked a job before, when suddenly every single responsibility is pressing down on you like a weight too heavy to carry.

So, hear me when I say this: Your fear does not mean failure. Your doubt does not mean you can’t do this if you choose to do this. You will grow into this. Into motherhood, into yourself, into a version of you that knows how to move forward even when the world is stacked against you.

You don’t have to have all the answers right now. You don’t have to do this perfectly. But you do have to keep growing through what you go through.

And I promise you; you’ve got this. Even when it feels impossible. Even when everyone doubts you. Even when you doubt yourself.

You’ve got this.

Signed.
-Just a messy mom in her kitchen
Lighting the way with purpose, resilience, and hope
Founder & Creator of Crum Canoe Candle Co.
Nikki Crum