Motherhood is hard. There’s no doubt about it. And it can be made harder by a society who views you as just that: a mom, but not an individual.
Self care is something that gets talked about a LOT these days, but are we all doing it? The sacrificial mom trope gets thrown around a lot, especially online, but let’s be honest. You matter. And you deserve that same level of care that you dish out for others.
Your blog has helped me see another side to being a mom, that it’s not all baking cupcakes, and sometimes it’s a very dark journey… Thank you for being a real mom, for being perfectly imperfect.
I read those words at the end of a very heartfelt, very raw email a reader sent to me over the weekend, and I cried a little.
This reader, this mother described how alone she felt in her struggles, how disconnected she felt to the moms around her daily. It makes my heart ache.
I think it’s a combination of sadness for her and the loneliness she describes, knowing what that can feel like, and knowing so many other moms feel that way day in and day out… and they’re convinced they’re alone. That those other moms they see don’t feel that way, that those other moms have it all together.
Everyone needs moms, but you know who needs moms the most? Moms.
Moms need moms to put down their armor of perfection and show us their weak spots. We need to know we’re not the only one shaking in our boots under that iron suit, that we’re not the only one nervously walking in a direction that feels as sure as a tightrope over the Grand Canyon.
Instead of pretending we have it all together in front of other moms, we should be open about our struggles. We should TALK ABOUT our weaknesses. We should share our fears. Human bonds are built on human connections and relatability, not fantasy and idolization.
Moms, take off your armor. Smile kindly at one another. Offer grace and support. Know that every mom you meet, no matter how “perfect” she appears, is walking that same shaky tight rope right along with you. Take her hand, tell her it scares you, too. Tell her sometimes you fall.
Tell her how you get back up.
Perfection is a heavy standard to hold yourself to. Take if off, and I promise the weightlessness of imperfection will be freeing. It’s much easier to walk tight ropes without so much weight on your shoulders, and it’s easier to get back up from a fall when someone is there to take your hand.