Confessions of an Enneagram 7 Mom

I’m getting good at these confessions. Covid Confessions was my first post. Then, I was pretty honest about using my son as a body shield when a bee was flying towards me. And now…Confessions of an Enneagram 7 Mom. This one is almost too much for me to share…but I feel I must.

About a year ago I asked my now adult son what it was like growing up with a mom who was an Enneagram type 7. Now let me set the stage a little before I tell you the punch-in-the-gut answer. He is my first born. I gave birth to him when I was 19 and he was (and still is) the sunshine of my existence (a line from a movie we both loved and quote to this day). He grew up listening to my music and watching my movies so we spoke a common language. I was full of energy so we did a lot of playing and, as a type 7 mom, there was never a lack of fun activities. He was a born entertainer which made life very fun! When he was five years old he walked up to a lady I was having a conversation with, tapped her on her leg and once he had her attention, looked up and starting belting out ”Celebrate good times…COME ON!” by 'Kool and The Gang'! When he was about 10 he starting performing magic and would walk up to random strangers in a restaurant and say…”Want to see a magic trick?” Before they had time to respond he had done some slight of hand, taken a bow and walked away. I became his magician’s assistant when he performed in the high school talent show and although I almost got my head cut off when the lock wouldn’t open, his performance got a standing ovation. He went on to be the lead in several plays and won many awards including a college scholarship for acting. I was, and still am, his biggest fan! We had a lot of fun! He continued the path of entertainment and, in fact, is a very accomplished actor, writer, film maker and post-production whiz. So…when I asked him what it was like growing up with me for a mom he said…

”I never knew our family had any problems. So when you and Dad said you were getting divorced I was in shock. My whole world seemed to be a lie.”

I wasn’t a bad mom. In fact, if you ask any of my kids I know they’d say I was a great mom…I have a box full of cards and hand written notes telling me so.

What else had I sugar-coated and silver-lined that kept them from learning how to cope with the difficulties of life? Was my attempt to spare them heartache, by focusing on the positive, actually weakening their ability