Growing up, we are fed many ideals. Films, books, music and society have us believe that we will find a person who loves us deeply; settle down; have kids and live happily ever after. Of course, most of these illusions are dispelled at some point during our adulthood. We realise that relationships are often marred by unreachable expectations or insecurities or infidelity or any number of faults that affect us as human beings.

There is one ideal, however, that endures well into adulthood and, if you’re lucky, all the way to the grave. This ideal is that of the unconditional love that exists between a mother and her child. It is an idea that is largely common between all races, religions and nations across the world; your mother should love you unconditionally. This idea exists for a reason; many (most?) mothers DO love their children in an all-encompassing, unrivalled way. Parents bang on about how having children changed their lives and how if you don’t have kids, you “just don’t understand”.

This is all well and good but experience (both personal and secondary) has taught me that motherly love is not always unconditional. In fact, in many cases, it does not exist either at all or as strongly as it should. This is evident in the thousands of children who are abandoned or abused by their mothers every year across the world.

This has led me to question whether the idea of unconditional motherly love is a fallacy. Maybe it isn’t inherent in every single woman. Maybe maternal instinct and that magical eternal bond doesn’t just happen. Maybe the overwhelming need to protect the child you first cradle in your arms isn’t felt by every woman and maybe, that’s okay. Perhaps it is society that has convinced women that it’s what they are meant to feel when they give birth to a child.

Maybe if we weren’t brought up with the notion that we will/should have everlasting, unconditional love from our mothers, there would be many more healthy adults walking around today. After all, as I say in Life, Love & Assimilation, don’t all our fears, insecurities, and fuckups stem from our parents; the fact that they just didn’t love us enough or smothered us too much? If we weren’t conditioned to believe that our parents should love us “just because” then we wouldn’t become screwed up when we find that they do not.

Makes perfect sense, right?

Well, actually, no - it doesn't. As much as I want to make a case against maternal instinct and say that it's a result of conditioning rather than nature, I am proved wrong by the mere fact that almost every species of living creature feels the need to protect its young.

I guess I’m just terrified of having children and not being there the way I know I should. I’m astounded that people can let down every single barrier they’ve built and give someone so much power to hurt them. Yes, terrified is the word.


PS. Don’t worry, I’m not pregnant. In fact, it’s El Tiempo de el Mes at the moment. I’m going to use that as an excuse for being all emotional.

The Race

I am still here. I know I haven’t written here for months on end but I have been ridiculously busy (working, writing, healing a broken bone and moving home). I promise I will make more of an effort. I will also try to update the other parts of the site when I get a moment.

So anyway, how fantastic was the race on Sunday? It finally convinced me that there is life after Schumacher. The top four drivers were pretty predictable but what a season!

Despite being British, I was secretly (ok, not so secretly) hoping that Hamilton would lose. Despite his carefully-cultivated humility, I believe that losing will do him good in the long run. Too much, too young isn’t good for anybody and despite being relatively grounded, I think a taste of failure will build his character and make him a better driver in the long run.

As for Alonso, he put up a pretty good fight. For some reason, I don’t detest him as much as I usually do with those who have emerged victorious over Schumacher (i.e. Hill, Villeneuve and Hakkinen). I think the poor man suffered enough this season.

My man Massa did me proud despite coming fourth. He was a class act; a great sportsman who was consistent and proved his worth.

As for good old Raikkonen (I refuse to call him Iceman – as apt as it is, it’s just way too cool a nickname for him), what I said earlier this year about him being inanimate was proven yet again on Sunday. Barely cracking a smile, he celebrated his win with a painfully awkward hug with Jean Todt. It made me nostalgic about Schumacher’s heyday. He would have been grinning ear to ear, jumping on Todt’s back in delight. I guess a world championship win can’t magically conjure charisma in someone so devoid of emotion.

All in all, a great race.