I know that I have good kids. Three good kids, actually.
My Boy is 5, to be 6 in December.
My Girl is 2, turning 3 in November.
My Baby turned 1 in June. He's in 18 month clothes so when people ask, I say he's 18 months.
I have a good Husband. We've been married 7 years, 8 in April. I met him when I was 14. He was my first kiss, first boyfriend. Between that and Marriage was a whole lot of messy, dirty, painful, beautiful life. I'll probably write about it sometime, when I feel like it.
You can't force those kinds of moments, those writing moments. When something heavy
needs to be shared, you'll know when the time is right. And this is not that time.
I have a good dog. She isn't very smart and she barks at things as she runs to hide from the things, but she loves us. So we love her.
I also have a good cat. He plays sometimes, cuddles sometimes, runs around outside but always comes back to sleep at the end of our bed at night. He also doesn't bother with a litter box. He meows when he wants out and he does his business somewhere in the neighborhood. I haven't cared enough to investigate and I'm not sure that I ever will.
I have a good life.
But I have a secret.
I spend a lot of this good life thinking that it's a BAD one.
But I have a secret.
I spend a lot of this good life thinking that it's a BAD one.
And for the life of me, I just can't understand why. This morning I sat on the floor of my living room, watching my Baby wander over to me with a big smile and settle into my lap, happy to just snuggle. And as I rested my nose on his head and smelled that sweet baby smell, I asked myself...
If my life is so GOOD then why do I feel like it's so BAD?
Why do I spend so much of this good life feeling guilty? Why do I spend so much this life filled with good people and good moments, drowning in shame? Questioning my purpose? Second-guessing my decisions? Resenting my younger self?
Why do I spend so much of this good life feeling like it's a BAD one?
Why do I so often find myself staring at my reflection, picking through my flaws, calling myself a BAD Mom? A BAD wife? A BAD friend?
Yeah, that's right. I do that, sometimes. I feel guilty a lot. I feel ashamed of my behavior when I'm angry, when I'm overwhelmed. I spend a lot of time evaluating my choices, trying to see what I could or SHOULD be doing better. I often refer to myself as a BAD something or other.
Am I the only one? Are you with me? Are you the one who was appalled by my grammar in my first post and came back just to see what else I could possibly bother you with? You're here, aren't you...
Sometimes we all see ourselves for the imperfect people we are.
Sometimes we compare ourselves to impossibly perfect standards.
Sometimes we think we are BAD...
...Mothers, Friends, Employees, Daughters, Sisters, Prayers, Sayers, Thinkers, Doers. Writers, Teachers, Sleepers, Aunts, Girlfriends...
You name it. We are BAD at it.
Except that we aren't. For the most part, anyway. I mean, I have to admit that I am actually not very good at praying. You should know now that I believe in God. I believe God is LOVE. I believe that LOVE is all encompassing, ever forgiving, ever present. And I believe prayer can be powerful. And still, I'm not very good at it...mainly because prayer can be boring. (WHATDIDSHEJUSTSAY?)
Hey, I'm just being honest. It's the truth. Prayer can be boring for me. I'm working on it.
For real, though, Friends. Even the friends who aren't Moms. Women in general, because at the end of the day, I'm more than a Mom. Once upon a time I was standing on the toilet in platform, white tennies and glossy pink lips with a side of crimpy hair, trying to snap a few photos to fill up the film so I could finally get my pictures developed...
I mean, what I mean is, somewhere in here, in this Mom Bod, is that carefree girl who just wanted to be liked. Part of me is still that newlywed who just wants to get drunk at a baseball game with my cute, new husband. A little piece of my heart is still riding the waves of the warm Atlantic ocean off the coast of South Carolina, peacefully floating alongside my best friend, each of us cursing the sharks in our drunken stupor. There's a part of me that still feels like the 18 year old college student, standing graveside, burying a piece of my heart, laying to rest an entire lifetime of hopes, dreams and love with one of the best people I've ever known.
Somewhere in here is the girl in a hot pink mini dress, a headband with fuzzy black ears, wobbling around in painful black stilettos, pretending to pass herself off as a cat for a Halloween party. A tiny part of me remembers how it feels to be the girl who found herself drinking flaming shots of sake and hoping nobody really knew that she hadn't ever drank before, that she planned on returning those stilettos come Monday. A part of me will always feel a little nauseous when I remember how much that girl desperately wanted to be anywhere but there, wearing pajamas on a porch swing with the guy she liked, looking at the stars and talking about their futures.
A big part of me will always long for the first moments spent in a hospital bed, covered in blood and guts and completely, overwhelmingly in love with every little detail of a screaming little slimy newborn squirming on my belly.
I will forever feel a big chunk of my heart burn as I remember the woman I was, clutching my toddler on the rocky shoreline of the Willoughby Bay, watching the USS Enterprise disappear into the horizon, carrying my Husband across the Atlantic for a 9 month deployment.
Are you still here? Still with me?
Good. Because here's where I get to my point.
When I stand in front of the mirror and point out all of the BAD that I see, labeling my flaws and shaming myself for the BAD person I've become...
When you look at yourself and you look at all of the mistakes you've made, the standards you've never met, the weight you've never been, the eye color you'll never have or the hairstyle you'll never pull off...
When we try to cram our imperfect selves into perfect little boxes, everything feels bad.
And we really have to stop.
I won't ever be anything but good and that isn't BAD at all.
Be a good Mom. Be a good Woman. Be a good Person. Because being your best version is good. And we all need your version of good in order for our world to be complete.
You deserve to feel good, because you are GOOD.
Cheers - Allison.
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