Motherhood Has Made Me Angry
I’ve been working on becoming more patient. More patient and less angry. But right now, if I’m being honest, that feels like an Everest size mountain standing in front of me, begging to be conquered but revealing no clear path. Today I was doing well, until things (two pint size humans to be exact) started to lose control, and I lost control with them.
So this evening, in full transparency, I broke some of my own rules and am allowing TV to raise my children until bed time.
This is why I so wholeheartedly believe in not judging the mothers who stand so bravely beside us in this battle field of raising humans. Nothing is cut and dry, black and white. Everything contains these shades of grey that can be so hard to navigate - different seasons, different battles.
One could so easily look at my house tonight and judge. Judge the TV allotment. Judge me disappearing into the background. Judge my mindset of survival for the next 2 hours until bedtime. Well, judge away friends. Because this is the truth of our home tonight, but it’s not the truth of our lives.
In the last few weeks I’ve felt wound so tight that when any level of stress hits I shoot right to a level 10 in my reaction. It doesn’t matter the size of the stressor. It could be a minor infraction that normally I wouldn’t even acknowledge that suddenly sends me over the top.
These emotions feel foreign. Anger has been a distant stranger my whole life. Anyone who knew me before motherhood would never use the term “angry” to describe me. And yet here I am, being challenged by control daily. It’s moments like this that I question who motherhood is changing me in to. On one hand, it’s given me my greatest purpose. On the other hand, it sometimes winds me so tight that I’m beyond recognition.
Most of the time, screen time is limited. Most of the time I’m a very present mother. Most of the time, I’m thriving not surviving. But you never know what season or moment you catch someone in. The small glimpse into their lives that you see during a grocery store meltdown, or a tablet driven mealtime, or a TV babysitter, is never their full story.
One of my goals through this journey is to offer glimpses into other mothers lives. Lives that can look very different from our own, and hopefully out of that, we’ll find empathy.
So the next time you see a mom with the look of exhaustion so clearly on her face, offer grace in place of judgement. And, of course, remember to offer yourself the same.