Tag: support

Other Mothers

“Culture
The Moms Are Not Alright
What’s going on: We’re still months away from Mother’s Day, but Hollywood can’t stop putting moms on the big screen right now — and they aren’t just supporting characters. Two movies are currently driving the conversation: Jennifer Lawrence’s Die My Love and Rose Byrne’s If I Had Legs I’d Kick You. As Glamour puts it, they’re all about the mom meltdown. Lawrence portrays a new mom battling postpartum depression, and Byrne plays a single mother caring for a sick child while trying to hold it together. The stories are wildly different, but the women do share this: valid crash-outs. And in each case, a frustrating partner helps push them there. (Because honestly, who gives a new mom a puppy?)
What it means: Motherhood in America is a pressure cooker. Child care costs averaged $13,000 in 2024, according to one report. Nearly half of all mothers report symptoms of postpartum depression. Add the centuries-old demand to be the “perfect mom,” and it’s no wonder so many feel like they’re falling apart. These films don’t just tell that story — they confront it. Each one holds up a mirror to how society rushes to judge mothers for cracking under impossible expectations instead of asking what broke them in the first place. The result? A cultural moment that feels less like escapism and more like recognition. The only question now: Will people watch a movie that feels this close to real life?” – The 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.

I Am

I was going to wait until tomorrow to write this post. For years, when I blogged daily, I devoted Sundays on the blog, entirely to poetry, so that seemed like the apropos day to write about this gem which I have to tell you about. Yet, I’m too excited to wait until tomorrow. Yesterday, I devoured an entire book of poetry. And I’m not a huge poetry fan. The book which I read, is called I Am Maria by Maria Shriver. To be clear, I am not a big Kennedy family follower/fan. I have never read any of the other many books that Maria Shriver has written, but I can honestly say that I Am Maria is one of the best books that I have read in a long, long while. Every woman whom I know and I love, came to mind as I read Maria’s many, various poems. I believe that most women could relate to at least 20 percent of the book and most women would relate to a whole lot more of it. If you are a woman, a mother, a wife, a grandmother, a lover, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a God seeker, you will deeply relate to these honest, raw, vulnerable, authentic poems. It will inspire to open yourself up to your own inner poet. Do yourself a favor, and gift yourself this book. From one of Maria Shriver’s poems:

“I know I have the soul of a seeker.

The heart of a warrior.

The mind of a thinker.

The drive of a visionary.

And the spirit of a wild horse.”

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

Overlooked Superstars

“It happens all the time. Superstars get overlooked. The passersby rush past the musical genius playing on the sidewalk. The future bestseller sits at the bottom of a slush pile. Groundbreaking work is met with skepticism or ignored. It all presents an opportunity for the intuitive and aware. Be on the look-out for the good stuff. Be the one who sees it, senses it, lives it.” – Holiday Mathis

Whenever I’m in a quandary about what to write about on the blog, I go to Holiday Mathis’ daily horoscopes. She typically writes something profound (such as above) before she even gets to the individual astrological signs. Some of the best music that I have ever heard, some of the best artwork which I have ever seen, and some of the best words I have ever read, have come from obscure places such as street corners, graffiti walls and out-of-print books that I picked up at a garage sale.

When we were away last week, sitting in a swanky hotel, two extremely stylish women decked out in pricy, designer gear from head to toe, were gushing to me about a ring that I was wearing on my right hand. I had two rings on, one expensive, beautiful 14K gold ring bedazzled with diamonds and the other one, a hammered brass ring, holding a broken shell, that I had purchased from an artsy street fair in a local town a couple of years ago. I asked the regal looking women which ring they were inquiring about, and it was the street fair ring. They wanted to know the maker, and unfortunately, I had no idea. The artist had not put a maker’s mark on it. I do love the ring though. It is truly one-of-a-kind. It is special.

I love to support the underdog, especially in the arts. If someone’s creative work touches me, I do everything that I can to support it, whether that means a purchase, a compliment, a nice tip, a referral/promo, etc. It takes courage to put one’s creations out into the public. To do this opens a creator up to criticism, to ridicule, to rejection and creating takes a lot of time to do, without the likelihood of great reward in return for their time and effort. This is why I believe that we miss out on so much of what the world and all of its individual creators could offer to us. We often respect and worship all of the wrong people/places/stuff. We get a lot of copycats and a lot of same old/same old. And thus, we don’t get inspired to be more creative and imaginative, ourselves.

Go to Etsy and look up something you like, say perhaps, “turtles.” You won’t believe the offerings that you will find, in every kind of art form, at truly reasonable prices. Go to local hole-in-the-wall restaurants that aren’t chains. You might taste flavors like you have never experienced before in any kind of restaurant. Pause and listen to that saxophonist on the corner. Many famous stars today, including Justin Bieber, were originally street performers. And if you find a creator that really impresses you, support them, any way that you can. It means so much to them. And honestly, it means so much to the world.

Even if you don’t like astrology, go to Holiday Mathis’ website and just read her opening paragraph every day. In my opinion, she’s a writer and a thinker and a wise woman who deserves a whole lot more attention. She’s a star among those who write about the stars. And also, allow yourself to put your own creations “out there”. If nothing else, this will help you to appreciate, even more so, the bravery, the vulnerability, and the imaginative effort and sacrificial time, the creators whom you admire, have in spades, by the offerings which they give to all of us. Creators give us an intimate piece of themselves.

(It is my belief that WE are the vehicles of creations for our Creator. Do not withhold your gifts, and also, bring attention to other creators’ gifts. The world will be a much better place for it.)

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

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

2481. Would you join in a revolution?

Keeping it “Real”

Well, here I am at Day 2 of my Second Half of Adulting.  I wish I could say that the watermelon sized lump in my throat has gone away, but it hasn’t.  In fact, I woke up in “Moody Trudy” mode for sure.  Then I did the worst thing you could ever do.  I fed Moody Trudy by going to Facebook, which is not something that I even do very frequently.  So even though I am having a nice summer and we had a truly awesome memorable family vacation before my son left home, the comparison monster, made me feel even more miserable looking at everyone’s happy faces on their delightful summer adventures and travels.  Then I slogged Moody Trudy for not being a better person and feeling happy for all of her dear friends and family, which just spiraled me even more.  This is not a good way to start the day nor my second half of adulting, but it is what it is and the truth must be told.

Now, in the first half of my adulting, I learned that we women need each other.  Yes, we can be each other’s worst enemies or passive aggressive “frenemies” (on an aside, when I started my first job out of college, I asked a female manager what was the hardest thing about being a professional woman and without a blip of hesitation she said, “other women”), but in the end, no one “gets us”, like us.  I have gotten discerning over the years and I have learned to put up better boundaries.  This has helped we whittle it down to primarily two solid groups of women friends with whom I can keep it real.  Really real.  So, this morning, I texted both groups.  Turns out, I’m not the only Moody Trudy today (which is not surprising in a group of chiefly middle aged women, many with a few teenage kids in the mix) which helped me feel supported, eased me into a lighter mood and got me “out of myself”.  I was then able to help other friends with their own problems which helped me to put my issues into perspective.

Bottom line, today emphasized something very important to keep and to treasure in my second half of adulting – the awesome support of true, kind friends.  Maybe I should keep a list of “keepers” for my second half?!?  Number one on the keeper list:  Solid female friendships.