How To Be A Mother

“I am so sick of people trying to strip me of my title of mother!” my head screamed. Any variance in the disciplinary practice of me and a fellow “mom” and I get “the talk.” It always starts the same, with a pity laced tone, in this manner “Jennifer, I don’t want to hurt you when I say this, but because you never really had a mother, you don’t really know how to be a mother.” I used to accept this statement, take it completely to heart and let it destroy me. The truth is for years I tried to mimic “good moms,” you know the ones with monogrammed tote bags and daughters with perfect hair and matching outfits. I tried the sweet mom approach, the “now sweetie don’t do that” and the “ignoring it and accepting all disciplinary problems as phases and childish ways.” Until I had a child reach her teenage years and realized she had witnessed me accepting the words of others, did I finally stand up and essentially shout “screw you! All of you that stripped me of my title!”

Being a mother is a fairly simple, albeit painful, process. You have sex, wait nine months, and out comes a kid (or choose the long process of adoption). Boom! You’re a mother. Now, the notion of what a mother is and the natural competitiveness of animals comes into play. Women are vicious, yes I will hate on my own end of our species, and some live to destroy others. In the eyes of some, I am a very strict mother, in others I am a wimp. Considering these two indications, I see that as putting me directly in the perfect section of the motherhood bell curve.

After years and years of hearing and taking this to heart, my daughter used it against me in a particularly stressful situation; it hurt me to the core. I had to take it in, let it hurt, then figure it out. She wanted me to hurt because her feelings felt especially hurt, but this particular situation called for the “never back down” side of motherhood. I feel as the months have passed since this incident, she has come to realize if anyone has her back, it’s me.

Dealing with my fault in accepting the insults and hurts slung my way is another story. So many books have been written to help people learn to accept themselves flaws and all, they have yet to help me! It’s a personal journey and I have no answers. Some days, I feel amazing, I feel beautiful, intelligent, a master of motherhood, and a flawless woman; others, I feel like a failure, bloated, ugly, and useless. It’s natural, it happens. I realize I gave permission to those that insist I “don’t know how to be a mother,” I allowed people to say it to me and I allowed it to hurt me. The truth is, being a mother requires you only give birth or adopt. There are no prerequisites to motherhood and we all parent differently. The other truth is, those that have said these words to me are assholes. They knew, and inflected in their “scolding tone,” exactly the purpose they had in uttering those words. They have manipulative, abusive, self righteous character flaws and they are their problem, not me!

Truth is, none of us “knows how” to be a mother. We all screw up, we all regret some decision, over discipline, under discipline, the list is endless. We need to become accustomed to extending the same courtesy of being human to ourselves as easily as we give it to others. It is beyond difficult to quit being my own enemy. I vow to stand up and stop anyone who tries to “put me in my place again.” I have self-destructive tendencies enough on my own, there is no more room for spiteful, hateful people.