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Abstract

I wanted to be everything for my daughter that I never had.I wanted to be everything for my daughter that I never had.I never wanted to leave her side. I stayed home for the next 14 years with her and had her little sister and six younger brothers.In the early years of motherhood, I practically killed myself to be the best mother imaginable. I made all of my children beautiful clothes from scratch.I baked them everything, and then when they <a href="http://Image by Steve Buissinne from Pixabay">could not eat gluten</a>, I learned to be the best gluten-free baker that I could so they would not miss out on anything.<figure id="fe12"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*85-ukGTrOq7fsTWOqQrCeA.jpeg"><figcaption>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@henry_be?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Henry Be</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/motherhood-baking?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure>I tried to perfect myself, so they had a great example to follow.I took my children to swim lessons, to music, to gymnastics. I homeschooled to give them the best education possible.I lived and breathed to be the best for them.Alcohol and drugs never came near my lips. Until they were teenagers, God bless, they never even heard me curse.<h1 id="7df1">The Realization</h1>Through all the sacrifices, I lost myself. I lost my joy, and I became exactly what I didn’t want to be. Stressed at pushing myself too hard to be perfect, I would snap on them at the slightest thing.They would look at me in shock as their Mary Poppins like mother became a raging dragon.At one point, I thought I had given all that I could provide and decided to finally invest back into myself and went to school to get my master’s degree.I was pregna

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nt at the time unexpectedly, and I lived in a state of constant guilt. The guilt of doing this thing for myself ate me up inside and stole my peace.<figure id="ddd5"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*QgdvybL5PtdItSkUzJ2aNQ.jpeg"><figcaption>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@pimchu?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Pim Chu</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/stress?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure><h1 id="204a">The Reckoning</h1>Then a global quarantine happened. I no longer had the option to be a supermom. I could no longer run my children from activity to activity and make their lives perfect.I was stuck at home, and so were they, and they were happy.As the days went on, I began to change. I became more rested and saw things more clearly.I noticed that I needed something for me, or I would slip into a depression. I had time to invest in myself, and this time I did not feel guilty.Sometimes I sit in my room, working on papers, and my children walk in to talk to me. They are just so happy to see me there. Present. What was I so stressed about?<h1 id="1c61">New Direction</h1>It has dawned on me through all of this striving to be the perfect mother that it’s not what my children needed. They didn’t need me to perfect; they needed me to be present.They needed me rested, so I could be approachable. As I fought and struggled at my second chance to experience motherhood, I have found it where I least expected it.In the stillness, in the quietness, and in the presence of making myself available to them.<h1 id="f05b">Final Thoughts</h1>Our children don’t need us to make them the perfect meals, the perfect home, or take them to the perfect activities. They don’t even need us to be the perfect mom. They need us to be available.</article></body>

You Don’t Need to Be the Perfect Mom

You only need is to be available

The Beginning

I am the child of an alcoholic mother. I love my mom, but she was not able to take care of me. She eventually lost custody of my siblings and me.

From the age of eleven onward, I didn’t have a mother.

Raised by my single father, who did not remarry, I craved a mother in my life. I was a blossoming woman, and I needed her more than anything.

She was lost in a lifestyle though, and never found her way back to me.

I learned a lot from my mom about what I did not want to do as a mom. I saw her always try to go back to school, but it was too tall of a wall to climb for her.

I determined that I would finish college before having children, and I did, by the skin of my teeth.

A Second Chance

I graduated from college in November, and my daughter was born one month later. I now had a second chance at motherhood. This time I wouldn’t play the role of a helpless child, but that of the supermom.

I was mission-minded with this new role. I wanted to be everything for my daughter that I never had.

I wanted to be everything for my daughter that I never had.

I never wanted to leave her side. I stayed home for the next 14 years with her and had her little sister and six younger brothers.

In the early years of motherhood, I practically killed myself to be the best mother imaginable. I made all of my children beautiful clothes from scratch.

I baked them everything, and then when they could not eat gluten, I learned to be the best gluten-free baker that I could so they would not miss out on anything.

I tried to perfect myself, so they had a great example to follow.

I took my children to swim lessons, to music, to gymnastics. I homeschooled to give them the best education possible.

I lived and breathed to be the best for them.

Alcohol and drugs never came near my lips. Until they were teenagers, God bless, they never even heard me curse.

The Realization

Through all the sacrifices, I lost myself. I lost my joy, and I became exactly what I didn’t want to be. Stressed at pushing myself too hard to be perfect, I would snap on them at the slightest thing.

They would look at me in shock as their Mary Poppins like mother became a raging dragon.

At one point, I thought I had given all that I could provide and decided to finally invest back into myself and went to school to get my master’s degree.

I was pregnant at the time unexpectedly, and I lived in a state of constant guilt. The guilt of doing this thing for myself ate me up inside and stole my peace.

The Reckoning

Then a global quarantine happened. I no longer had the option to be a supermom. I could no longer run my children from activity to activity and make their lives perfect.

I was stuck at home, and so were they, and they were happy.

As the days went on, I began to change. I became more rested and saw things more clearly.

I noticed that I needed something for me, or I would slip into a depression. I had time to invest in myself, and this time I did not feel guilty.

Sometimes I sit in my room, working on papers, and my children walk in to talk to me. They are just so happy to see me there. Present. What was I so stressed about?

New Direction

It has dawned on me through all of this striving to be the perfect mother that it’s not what my children needed. They didn’t need me to perfect; they needed me to be present.

They needed me rested, so I could be approachable. As I fought and struggled at my second chance to experience motherhood, I have found it where I least expected it.

In the stillness, in the quietness, and in the presence of making myself available to them.

Final Thoughts

Our children don’t need us to make them the perfect meals, the perfect home, or take them to the perfect activities. They don’t even need us to be the perfect mom. They need us to be available.