Tag: Daily Skimm

I hadn’t planned on writing this morning. Lately, my inspirational “hits” have been more focused on my transforming “nest” and the upcoming holidays, but then I read the above blurb from the Daily Skimm. As a woman who is over the hump of raising her kids (my eldest son of our four “children” will be 30 in April, and our daughter, the youngest is 22) and as a mother, who has passed the threshold of the everyday duties of raising kids to become functioning adults, the words that I read above were still recognizable, and reverberating in my body. I ached with compassion for these fictional characters, and also for the many, many non-fictional women, over decades of generations, whom these characters represent. I ached with compassion for my younger self.

I intimately knew many fellow mothers throughout the years of raising my children. Despite our different theories, methods and choices in parenting, and despite our wildly different experiences and backgrounds, relationships, and nationalities and beliefs, these other mothers were my comrades and my compadres, my “sisters-in-arms”. I couldn’t have done it without them. Despite how vindictive, judgmental, catty and hard on each other, we women can be, it was the support of other mothers that kept it all afloat for me. It was the validation and the understanding and the quiet knowing of when to step in, and when to cheerlead, and when to send prayers and when to be a strong example (good examples and bad examples) that came from the other mothers (of all different ages) in my life – these are the things, all gifts from the other mothers, which got me to the threshold in one piece.

And so “crashing out”, “meltdowning”, “trying desperately to be perfect” mommy, let me be your compadre today. Let me be your sister-in-arms. You are okay. You are doing your best. You do not have to meet impossible expectations. You have many other women in your life who are mothers and who completely get it. Find the ones whom you feel safe enough to be vulnerable with, and let it all out. You love your kids. If there is one thing that all of us mothers understand is the undeniable strength that a mother carries every single day of her life until the day that she dies, because she allows her heart to walk far away from herself, into many unknown dangers and adventures and escapades, all apart from her, in all different directions, from the moment she experiences her first child’s first breath. A mother’s heart has pieces of itself scattered in many different directions, throughout the rest of her life. Understanding this, why would it not be hard to hold it all together? Sweet mother, answer me this, with the pieces of your heart scattering in the wind, how could you not have moments of crashing out and melting down? Why, in your unholy perfectionism, are you the hardest on yourself?

Movies are great for “escapism”, but people who actually intimately know what you are going through in life, are great for “recognition.” If you don’t need to see your life, dramatically splayed out on the big screen, that’s okay. But I guarantee you, in real life, you need someone who “sees” you. You need someone who can validate what you are experiencing, as a mother, externally and internally. Find those other mothers. Find the ones who are going through it with you, and also find those mothers, like me, who have graduated to a different level of holding up the scaffolding of a family that she has already built. Find those other mothers, and let them in. Throughout raising my children, I knew young mothers and older ones, working moms and stay-at-home ones, married moms and single ones, straight moms and gay ones, religious moms and non-religious ones, moms of huge broods and moms of onlies, rich moms and poor moms, and guess what? None of us were perfect. We all had our “crash out” moments (and we all still do). None of us cracked the “perfect mothering formula”, but the one thing that we all had in common is that we loved our children ferociously. I saw this meme the other day that stated it perfectly: “Mama Bear is such a sweet way to describe the fact that I’d tear you open and eat your insides if you hurt my child.”

Dear sweet mother, who is reading this right now, all of the while feeling like she may explode in her own pressure cooker of steamed, mixed-up feelings of anger, frustration, fear, guilt, resentment, loneliness, shame, doubt, unworthiness, hopelessness, worry and regret, let some of the air out. Let yourself breathe. Then take a look around. You aren’t doing this alone. Within blocks of you, within clicks on a computer, are other mothers who empathize with you so completely, and all that they are asking for, is just a little bit of your own empathy back. Dear sweet mother, as I continue to build the scaffolding of my own family and I continue to support my own life, and the lives whom I brought to this Earth (we mothers carry a load), I offer you tools from my own toolbox. I offer you a seat, where you can rest and wipe your brow. I offer you the wisdom of my experiences – what worked for me, and what did not. But mostly, I offer you my love and my reassurance. You already have all of the tools you need. You are doing a great job, working on that gorgeous building that so many generations of women behind you started, and added to, all the while doubting themselves, having crashout moments and many a meltdown, along the way. And yet, here we mothers are, still growing and still building away. There should be another word besides “other mother” which describe a different mother than you. In many ways, our mothering journey is the same. Our Mother Earth knows this intimately and ultimately. She knows in the end, we are all just truly One and that’s why we can rest so deeply in her compassionate and empathetic arms. Dear sweet mothers, give yourselves moments of resting in Her calming arms. See Her in the eyes of the “other mothers”. You are not alone. You never were alone.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.