It’s Going to be Worth It

I was sitting at a table with a handful of women, most of them brand-new acquaintances to me as of that morning. The goal was to eat breakfast together and while doing so, go around the table and ask and answer a few, previously chosen questions in the quest to learn more about each other and become better acquainted.

To say this was a step outside my comfort zone would be a massive understatement. I’m an introvert by nature and I despise small talk of any kind. I don’t disguise my true self – what you see is what you get. I don’t hide, but I also reserve the deepest layers of myself for those who have proven themselves to be trustworthy and loyal. However, I am learning that putting myself in situations where I’m challenged beyond my level of ease actually helps me grow personally. So there I sat.

As we dined, the conversation started as so many usually do – where are you from?, what brings you to this city?, do you have children?, etc. Those questions I usually find fairly easy to answer – I’m from the Midwest, came to this city because I love all it has to offer, I have a couple of crazy children who make me want to tear my hair out sometimes but whom I absolutely adore, etc.

Most of the conversation was just as awkward for everyone else at the table as it was for me. We are all self-professed introverts, and small talk is not any of our favorite. We seemed to approach the questions in a checklist sort of style, and moved through them rather quickly, which is fine. There were a few rabbit trails, owing mostly to the fact that three of the ladies at the table had a previous friendship, and they already knew each other at a deeper level and didn’t seem to want to go deeper with the rest of us. I get it, believe me. And I was okay with that. I’ve learned enough about myself and others to usually be able to sense how deep something will go before a conversation begins, so there were no surprises.

The conversation turned toward motherhood. A couple of ladies were grandmothers and retired, another was almost retired, but with no children, and another was a mom with younger kids like myself, and as we all talked about being a mom, working outside the home or staying home, playing with your kids, school schedules and how much time you spend doing certain things at home,  I found myself feeling unusually defensive on the inside.

For some unexplained reason, I felt like I had to explain myself and rationalize my choices with every topic. There was a sense of pleasant indifference from the other ladies, and I knew deep down that they didn’t really care, so why did I care so much? It wasn’t comfortable, partly because I couldn’t figure out the source of my defensiveness in the first place. In my mind, I was comparing myself to others with each and every thing. I felt self-conscious and inadequate, and whether it was imagined or not, I felt judged.

Here’s the thing: I have little kids and was a stay at home mom, then became a work from home mom for a while and went back to work full-time before they’re both in school because I needed it for my sanity. I don’t like to play with kids. I don’t like dolls; I don’t like playing pretend. I’ll read my kids books ‘til the cows come home, supply endless amounts of art supplies and creative play and music and answer any question under the sun honestly and fairly, but if you ask me to drink an imaginary cup of tea, I’d rather make a real one instead and unload the dishwasher. I do laundry while my kids watch TV. Sometimes, for good measure, I’ll even leave said laundry on the couch for three weeks before I fold it and put it away. I cook quick meals while they play and sometimes, we eat cereal for dinner. We don’t do a lot of play dates. We don’t go to the pool, or for long walks where they turn over every leaf and explore every rock. We try to maximize the brief amounts of time we have and we put family first.

I love my kids fiercely and will protect them and teach them to the best of my ability, but they aren’t the center of my universe. And that’s okay. Don’t feel sorry for them. They are independent, thoughtful, curious, creative, compassionate, and able to function without me hovering over them. They are kind, resourceful, and as adults will be able to make good decisions by themselves. They will be the best version of themselves because I’m showing them the best version of me.

Every life looks different. We all have different goals and dreams and desires. We all make different choices for different reasons, and deep down, I believe we’re all doing the best we can for ourselves and our families.

It’s natural to compare ourselves to others and feel like we don’t quite measure up. But it’s not healthy, and it’s not helpful. If I’m only doing things that drain and exhaust me and if I don’t have the bandwidth to be patient and kind, it’s not going to be helpful to my kids or me.

If, however, I restructure my life to do the things that are fulfilling and help me reach my goals, I become a vibrant, capable front-row participant in my life, modeling for my kids how to set goals and priorities and reach them with hard work.

If you love to play with your kids, do it. If you love to work, do it. If you can’t function without a spotless house, clean it. If the laundry piles up because you’re reading to your kids, awesome. If you feel guilty for any of these things because you feel like someone else thinks you should be doing something different, don’t.

Do the best you can while doing the things you truly believe you should be doing. Make the choices that are best for you and your family — that’s all you need to worry about.

               “I’m not telling you it’s going to be easy,

               I’m telling you it’s going to be worth it.” — Author Unknown