One aspect of motherhood that I never anticipated is the general feeling of inadequacy that I would experience. I wonder if there's a mom alive who feels like she's kicking ass at motherhood. If there is, I haven't met her yet. Every single mom I know feels like she's just not cutting it. Like the stakes are very high and she doesn't have what it takes to do a great job. Like she's failing in ways big and small - pretty much all the time. Like every other mom out there might just be doing a WAY better job than her. We look at each others' Christmas cards and say, "Oh, wow, she must totally have it together. I, on the other hand, am a hot, hot mess." What we fail to recognize is that she was inevitably about to poke her own eyes out immediately before that adorable and picture-perfect photo was taken. We underestimate our own capabilities and overestimate everyone else's.
And in our own fear of inadequacy rests a sizable dose of judgment toward other moms. I don't even think we know we're doing it most of the time. I wonder what would happen if instead of judging each other, we started looking for the good things that every mom we encounter is doing. If, when we spent time together, instead of judging each other to make ourselves feel better, we just ignored all of that crap and really looked. Saw the ways that the other person uniquely and beautifully loves her children. And then if we told her what we saw. I wonder what it would be like if we told one another what a great job each of us is doing. In our own unique ways. Using our gifts, the special qualities that only we have, to love and bless our children. Loving them in ways that only we are equipped to love.
Micah and I were talking tonight, me hurt and wounded from something that happened today with someone close to me, and he said this: "You're an amazing mom. You know you're an amazing mom. Our kids are kind and gentle-spirited and loving. And they don't get that from me. They get that from you." I cried. I thanked him for saying those things. Because even though I know somewhere deep, deep down that he's right, that place in me is covered up by so many lies and insecurities and self-criticisms that I never let myself live in the freedom of the truth of those words.
Brene Brown in her incredible, so-freaking-amazing book Daring Greatly defines vulnerability as "Uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure." I realized today that motherhood and vulnerability go together. They are inextricably linked. To be a mom is to be vulnerable. Constantly. People ceaselessly judge how good or bad a job we are doing at raising our kids. And by people I mean everyone. Strangers on the street, checkers at Walmart, friends, family members. All of them. And we are constantly uncertain. We have no idea what we're doing. How could we? Raising a child is way too big. No parent EVER in the history of the world has been certain all the time. Or even most of the time. And it's risky as hell. We do our best. We give our kids everything we can. Use every last tool in our rinky-dink tool box.
But there are always holes in what we have to offer. We are human and therefore far, far, far from perfect. And ultimately all we can do is our best and then send them out into the world and hope to God that they survive. And thrive. And find joy and peace and love. And the world might not like them. At all. The world might be cruel to them. Or try to break their spirit. It might even succeed. The world might tell them they're a waste of space. Not good enough. In fact, the world will almost definitely tell them that. And then the world will look at us and point a finger and say that we are the reason that they are screwing up. This, my friends, is risky business. Risk, uncertainty, emotional exposure. The definition of parenthood, the definition of vulnerability. Same, same. And as Brene's years of research on vulnerability shows, “Staying vulnerable is a risk we have to take if we want to experience connection.”
1 comment:
Good gracious, woman- I feel so luck to know you and learn from you. Thank you for this post- and for your vulnerability.
Post a Comment