The deeper I dive into motherhood and coparenting, the more I realize how much I don't know, and how much no one ever told me. This shit is HARD. It's the hardest job I have ever had, which means it's arguably the most important one. It's what brings out my best side, and therefore my worst side as well. It's what allows me to feel the deepest connection to God and to myself, while (sometimes simultaneously) also feeling so disconnected from who I am and what to do, that I often question my ability to raise solid human beings.
Part of being human is our expansive ability to experience such a vast array of emotions. Motherhood for me, has provided the opportunity to experience many conflicting emotions, often simultaneously. I never thought that I would be able to have feelings of the deepest most beautiful love, as well as the deepest most ugly resentment. But the closer I examine this, the more it makes sense.
We grow these humans with our bodies, and then keep them alive with our bodies for at least 6 months. Of course there is the deepest of deep emotional ties to our children. They give us infinite opportunities to learn more about ouselves, and to be better humans. But that's hard work. No one tells you how hard it is, until you've lost your sense of self, being all consumed by the needs of these tiny people...and so while you unconditionally love this little person, you also resent them for making you look so closely and so often in the mirror.
What I remind myself of is this: if we didn't have the feelings of disappointment, anger, resentment, frustration....then we likely wouldn't have the feelings of euphoria, bliss, unconditional love, connection. If we didn't care what happened to these little people, then we wouldnt feel any of the above listed emotions. The deeper we love, the more we feel. To me, this sums up so much of parenting. When I feel tunnel visioned and overwhelmed and like I might not make it through the day, I allow myself a few moments to feel those things, then try and remind myself that I'm feeling these things because of how much I care.
Being a parent means being vulnerable: ALL THE TIME. It means admitting you are wrong: often. It means holding space for others to grow. It means letting go, not only of your expections but also of your attachments to those expectations. It's a constant practice in the deepest kind of vulnerability there is, which means it takes CONSTANT courage. Brene Brown talks about how she as a researcher has studied this before, and she can measure how brave you are by how vulnerable you are willing to be.
I often talk about how I struggle with parenting. Part of why I do this so openly and so intensely, is because I TRUST I am not the only person to feel this way. My crass recounts of how stressful our days are when my kids are being total monsters, (75-80% of the time), is my way of trying to normalize the challenging parts of parenting. It's so easy to get sucked into the world of social media where people only post cute pics and stories of their kids...guess what? I do that too but I also try and remain realistic here: SOMETIMES MY KIDS ARE ASSHOLES AND I WANT TO RUN AWAY. If I lie about this, then I'm putting up walls and not allowing myself to share my vulnerability with others, which is isolating and not real life.
I make a CHOICE every day, and sometimes multiples times a day, to show up as best as I can for my family. Some days I slay it. Some days I barely make it by. Some days I scream more than I thought I ever would. Some days I just have it all together. All days, I choose to be vulnerable, because if I'm not, then I'm not available.
I'm tired. I'm so drained by the end of each day. After countless "1..2..3's..." and negotiations to get my kids to do what needs to be done so we get to where we need to be. Exhausted by literally teaching them how to be functioning humans in this world. My biggest fear as a mother is that I will somehow not teach my kids the coping skills they need to get by in this insanely fast moving, overwhelming world. I struggle every day with this fear, and I'm certain it effects my parenting, but I'm not entirely sure what to do about it. Once again, I return to vulnerability. If I don't know what the hell I'm doing, then other people must not know either.
Parents; mothers; fathers; caregivers: I see you. I see you so clearly. I don't know what I'm doing. I know I love my kids. And sometimes I kind of hate them. I know I ALWAYS love them, and I often hate parenting. It's confusing...it's unnerving...it's life. I need to breathe more...and I need to be seen and supported. I have no problems asking for help these days...and I hope you don't hesistate to ask me, because I SEE YOU and I will always do what I can to make things softer.
Thank you to those of you who do make this ride a little more light hearted...or at the very least, validated. There is no better form of support (for me) to know that I'm not in fact crazy...I'm not in fact making up how hard this is. Thank you to my own mother and father and all the mothers and fathers before me. I need to remind myself of your strength each day, to believe that I can do this.
In Gratitude,
Sarah
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