Growing Up in Reverse: How Caring for My Mom Made Me a Better Adult

Growing up, I had all these ideas about what being an adult would look like. A picture-perfect relationship, maybe a whole bunch of kids and a white picket fence. But nowhere in that mental image did I ever picture myself as a caregiver to my own mother. I mean, who the heck plans for that?

But here I am, smack dab in the middle of a reality I never saw coming. And you know what? It's been the most challenging, most rewarding, most transformative experience of my life.

When my mom first got diagnosed with Alzheimer's, I was like “Okay, we’re doing this… but what the heck does doing this even mean really?”. I had no idea what I was doing, no roadmap for how to navigate this new terrain. I felt like a fraud, a child playing dress-up in my mom's clothes, trying to fill shoes that were way too big for me.

But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months then into years, something started to shift. I found myself rising to the occasion in ways I never thought possible. I learned a little more every day how to manage medications and doctor's appointments, how to handle the mood swings and the memory lapses, how to find moments of joy and laughter even on the toughest days. When I say “a little more” I mean that…. it’s like I’m crawling toward the finish line of a marathon run, but I’m making progress.

And somewhere along the way, I realized that this experience was changing me. It was stripping away all the expectations and preconceived notions I had about what it meant to be an adult, and it was showing me what really mattered. It was beginning to smooth out some of my rough edges and softening me where I was a little calloused. In full transparency, though I’ve always had a nurturing presence, I’ve always had a very irritable and impatient one since I was a kid. Over the years I had kind of conditioned myself to think that I was just a broken woman who had the desire to be this selfless human but had a temperament that wouldn’t allow for it.

Because here's the thing: being a caregiver isn't glamorous. It's not the kind of role that society celebrates or even acknowledges sometimes. It's messy and exhausting and emotionally draining, and it sure as heck doesn't come with a fancy title or a six-figure salary.

But it's also the most important work I've ever done. It's taught me patience and empathy and resilience in ways that no other experience could. It's shown me the depths of my own strength and the unshakable power of love. Sometimes I feel like it’s God’s reminder that I’m more than the limits I’ve placed on myself. A reminder that I can do hard things even when I feel so frail that I don’t even know what’s holding me together anymore. In an odd way, it’s been validating that I do have a strength deeper than myself to draw from. For that reasurrance, I’m grateful.

And yeah, some days I still feel like a kid playing pretend still. Some days I want to throw in the towel and run screaming in the opposite direction, throw a temper tantrum, and go into hiding. But most days, I feel a sense of purpose and fulfillment… like I know what I’m doing is important and matters in the grand scheme of things.

Because this is where I'm meant to be right now. This is the season of my life that I'm supposed to be in, even if it looks nothing like what I thought it would. And I wouldn't trade it for anyone else's expectations, not even my own, because I know I’m meant to be here. Maybe I won’t be her caregiver throughout her entire journey. I may decide at some point to find assisted living for her, because that door is not closed to me, but right now this is it.

So, to all the other caregivers out there who are feeling like imposters, like you're just barely keeping your head above water - you will here me say this alot - but you're not alone. I’ll have those 3 words on repeat if I have to because sometimes they can be the most important words spoke to us as a caregiver when we are in a moment where we feel like a ghost in our own lives.

This is hard. It's messy and complicated and it will push you to your limits in ways you never imagined and may not want to admit. But it will also show you what you're made of. It will teach you lessons that you couldn't learn any other way. And it will give you a sense of purpose and meaning that goes beyond anything you ever thought possible.

So, embrace the chaos. Start in small ways and as you build resilence you’ll get stronger. Lean into the discomfort. And know that you are exactly where you're supposed to be, even if it doesn't look like what you planned.

Because at the end of the day, being an adult isn't about checking off some arbitrary list of accomplishments or milestones. It's about showing up for the people we love, even when it's hard. It's about finding meaning and purpose in the midst of the mess. And it's about growing and evolving and becoming the best version of ourselves, no matter what life throws our way.

So, here's to all the caregivers out there who are adulting in ways that nobody ever talks about. You're rockstars, every single one of you. And you're exactly where you're meant to be.

Keep going. Keep growing. And know that you've got this, even on the days when it feels like you don't.