A mom knows many things —how to wipe away a tear, encourage the pursuit of a dream, cheer from the bleachers, be supportive from playoffs to prom, and turn a box of mac and cheese with a side of eggs into an enjoyable supper! She also knows how to laugh and smile through her own pain.
That pain is often self-inflicted as critical judgment. I have yet to meet a woman who has not been hijacked in the best of her mothering efforts by her inner critic, that voice in her head that tells her she is not good enough somehow.
I knew since childhood that I wanted to be a mom, and perhaps I set expectations for myself that were unrealistic. I somehow wanted to be like the moms on Bewitched, Brady Bunch, and Growing Pains. These TV moms were magical, flawless, and fun in my eyes. I always expected myself to show up the same way. If only I could wiggle my nose and make things happen magically like Samantha Stephens, look polished no matter what was happening like Carol Brady, and raise a lovely family before going back to work as a journalist like Maggie Seaver!
It wasn’t until I became a mom myself that I could relate to what was a new breed of tv moms that showed their challenges and imperfections. We started seeing single moms, working moms, moms who struggled with divorce, loneliness, dating again, addiction, financial stability, and maintaining close relationships with their children. Moms like those portrayed in Rosanne, Mom, and One Day At A Time.
Once I embraced being a “real” mom, I no longer saw the challenges as obstacles but as life. Life means unraveling sometimes. Life means barely getting by sometimes. Life means starting over sometimes. Life means doing your best moment to moment without judging it.
I know motherhood as an experience pushing me to the outer bounds of my emotions, the depths of my fears, and the heights of my love. And, I have learned to let go of perfection and critical self-judgment. I have come to know that to love my children, I must first love myself. And that is not selfish; that is selfless. It requires adopting a lifestyle that creates time and space for that which inspires, motivates, entertains, educates, coaches, and designs for me… and it’s true for you, too. It is the only way we are genuinely mothers and not martyrs. The more I have allowed myself this lifestyle, the more muted my inner critic has become and the louder my inner cheerleader. It’s a fantastic experience to become your own best friend and live a transparent, authentic life for yourself and others.
So, Moms, what you believe about yourself matters. It becomes what you know and how you show up. As a mom, I have known grief, fear, isolation, doubt, and heartbreak, but mostly, I have known love. As I keep learning and growing, what I hope to know on a greater level is faith in having done my best and hope for what my children will take forward from me. I have taken much from my Mom and am eternally grateful for many lessons that were perhaps never acknowledged. Thank you, Mom. I know you hear and feel me now.
As for one of those lessons, we recently welcomed a homeless teenager into our home, embracing him as family. I will be the best stand-in mom to him I know how to be. And this is as real as it gets.
What A Mom Knows
