The older my girls get the more hesitant I am to share, but that is mostly because it is their stories. Not mine. Sure as her momma I have great power in where this story goes, but I have to remind myself it isn’t my story to change.
# 2 is doing incredibly well but there are just things with her that aren’t what they can and should be at school and we wrestle with fixing it and even questioning if we should. There isn’t a fix and what message is seeking out that fix. Are we trying to change who she is and is meant to be.
Or by giving her the best chance are we providing her with the opportunity to be the best her. I know the answer to that. But therapy is fired back up again and the therapy makes me question every little move I make as a mother.
If I said it this way or did it that way or if I could have handled that better. It is my fault. Oh my god, should I have even had children. I found myself saying, “But I started a new and demanding job” and “But I really want this for myself.” As if I have to validate to some stranger I am allowing to peek into my life for a brief hour and wonder if she is picking apart my family.
And I know better. I have been there. She isn’t doing that. She is listening, she is providing that outside ear with everyone that is on the inside. As I am sitting there the teacher side of me sees her issues so differently. She is a smart kid and struggling with the identity that comes with that. This push and strive for an unattainable perfection. Did I push her there? No. I would take her however she came. But maybe I do? Maybe the tone or the message was received differently by her.
Then I think what I have I been trying to do for the last 11 years of my life? To prove I am better and smarter than what I see in the mirror. I cannot accept my hard work or success. I always see the bad or compare myself to someone or something that is honestly incomparable.
At what stage in life do we become comfortable with ourselves? Sure right now I am quite satisfied and comfortable in my skin in certain areas. But in others I feel incredibly weak. Have I been the best mother? Have I been the best academic? Could I have done this better or more differently? I really could go on. But the good stuff…it is on the short list.