It’s always tempting to take the bait after a chaotic holiday season and tell yourself “if I can just change, next year will be better”.
Can we please make this the year of self-compassion instead?
Ignore the resounding internal chorus of you’re not good enough — because you are. Honest.
Every morning I (try to) do affirmations for my kids and I always start by saying them to myself so I can share how good that feels. The intent was just to model behavior, but, as it turns out, it did feel good.
The truth is, had I sat down and thought about my own affirmations, they would be nothing like these. But I deserve to be told deep truths as much as they do. You are kind. You are capable. You deserve love and good things. You matter. You are good inside.
To be clear – this is not a call to make yourself start saying daily affirmations or to add more feelings of inadequacy, but a reminder that we deserve as much compassion as we give others.
After my first was born and I was struggling postpartum, I remember my therapist asking if I could admit that I was a good mom — out loud. I got as far as saying that I was an “adequate mom” and even that felt grossly uncomfortable. They were cared for, healthy, and safe, but I definitely wasn’t that mom.
We set the wildest expectations for ourselves in ways we would never do to others. I know that my to-do list is perpetually too long to ever realistically accomplish in a day.
And yet.
I still lay awake at night thinking about all of the things I didn’t do/need to do/didn’t do right.
What would I say to a friend instead? It’s legitimately not possible. No one would be able to do what you seem to think you should be capable of. You are doing the best you can.
It feels hard because it is hard, full stop.
Find ways to be kind to yourself, truly. Whatever you got done today is all you could do. However much you did or didn’t play with them; however many times you hid in the bathroom to breathe; whatever you said when you completely lost it.
It's all good. You are good.
Signed,
A Good Mom