A treat! I feel so many of those things. I have close friends who I see as Übermothers and me as a regular mom. I even have a coffee mug that says, "The World's Okayest Mom." I actually stopped using it for some of the reasons you shared. Thank you!
Amy, that mug probably deserves a little resurrection, maybe not daily, but for those “I kept everyone alive and only mildly cursed” kind of mornings. I hear you on the Übermother proximity. It’s wild how fast we internalise the gap, even when we know it’s performance. Regular isn’t lesser. Regular is resilient. Thanks for reading and for being here! Sending you love 🥰
Brilliant writing! It reminds me of the disappointed sigh I used to get from my Mum when I was just learning to carve an identity as a teen. It reminds me of now as I don't know if I've passed college and how I showed up to the last class anyway and I'm doing the work anyway incase I can succeed. I've catastrophised I've failed myself and my daughter one too many times, I may have disappointed though I'm still here! Love reading the honest newsletters.
Taran, showing up anyway is the most rebellious kind of hope there is. That teenage-you carving out identity? She's still in there, only now she’s doing it with more stakes, more heart.
Keep doing the work, even when it feels foggy, being “still here” counts for more than anyone tells us! And your daughter will learn from that, not from the made-up model of ‘never failing’.
Omggg the pool that sits in the garden for 2 weeks and then gets thrown away, by me.
At ours it sat for nearly a year. I am SUCH a disappointment. THANK YOU for this, for the permission and reminder that when we allow ourselves to disappoint, we stop performing and get to live our actual and real life.
Ray, a whole year...I bow to your commitment to decay-as-decor. Honestly though, that pool deserved it. And yes, exactly this. When we stop performing, we finally get to live. May your disappointments continue to be wildly liberating!
Alicia, isn’t that the line that quietly growls a bit? I felt it in my ribs when I wrote it. Thank you for reflecting it back. Sometimes the love that doesn’t photograph well is the fiercest kind. ❤️
Loved this. I was not a natural mother either. But I didn’t have the information overload that your generation endures. Like Sue Reed said, as grandparents we may continue to disappoint. I find there is much less pressure and fewer expectations, so it’s much easier with my beautiful grandsons.
Melissa, I hear you and I’m so glad grandparenthood feels easier. That lightness sounds like balm.
Just to lovingly say: I am a natural mother to my children. What I’m not a natural at is the performance of motherhood ~ what society tells us it’s meant to look like, sound like, feel like. If anything, my tension isn’t personal, it’s political. The institution of motherhood? That’s where I chafe. That’s what NOISE, my feminist book on motherhood, gets stuck into.
Thank you again for your thoughtful words. I love when these deeper distinctions surface. 💖
“Not a natural mother” was a clumsy way of saying I didn’t feel I lived up to expectations of mothering of my era. I watched friends who seemed to parent with such ease and grace, but I found it overwhelming. Your post and comment has prompted me to reframe my thoughts about who I was as a mother. It wasn’t that I was not a natural mother. I did it my way and I have two beautiful sons who made it to adulthood in spite of mistakes I might have made. If I am a more natural grandmother, it’s because I’ve given myself full permission to do it my way, not worrying about grandmotherly stereotypes. And in my Substack and book that I’m writing, I’m trying to give grandparents a new model and set of practices to follow that challenge today’s expectations of grandparents as babysitters and fun seekers. We can be so much more for our grandchildren. They need us to be more.
Julie, I felt your 💖 beaming through the screen. Thank you for always catching the heart of it and for cheering on the mess, the truth, and the glorious fuck-ups. Couldn't ask for better company!
Sue, I bow to your multi-generational wisdom. Disappointment really is the family heirloom, isn’t it? Gets passed down like the good china, slightly chipped, still in circulation. You’ve clearly earned your stripes in the long game. 🫶🏼
I was never the mom who enjoyed the crafts, the egg dying, Christmas decorating, cookie baking, dressing your children to the nines to show how "good" of a mom you were. It did always feel so performative. I never felt it was my job to entertain them, it was enough of a job to feed, clothe them and keep them alive, and I only had 2!
I remember giving a "lifeline" to a friend of mine when her kids were younger (mine were about 10 years older then hers). She was exhausted from running her yoga studio business, teaching classes all day and then going home and playing with her kids all the time. I said "why the hell are you playing WITH them? You are their mom, not their friend or sister. That's what they have each other for." Seemed simple enough to me, but the idea of doing things differently than what she thought made her a "good" mom changed everything for her.
Thank you for this permission slip for all moms out there!
Yes, thank you for sharing! And the question you raise for me...WHO are we disappointing? I think we think it is ourselves, but you make me think of it more deeply. Who came up with those standards and images and myths of womanhood that we absorbed so much we think it is our own self we disappoint, but the freedom that comes from it suggests otherwise. The way we want our daughters and goddaughters to disappoint suggests otherwise. The standards were never our own, were they?
A treat! I feel so many of those things. I have close friends who I see as Übermothers and me as a regular mom. I even have a coffee mug that says, "The World's Okayest Mom." I actually stopped using it for some of the reasons you shared. Thank you!
Amy, that mug probably deserves a little resurrection, maybe not daily, but for those “I kept everyone alive and only mildly cursed” kind of mornings. I hear you on the Übermother proximity. It’s wild how fast we internalise the gap, even when we know it’s performance. Regular isn’t lesser. Regular is resilient. Thanks for reading and for being here! Sending you love 🥰
Brilliant writing! It reminds me of the disappointed sigh I used to get from my Mum when I was just learning to carve an identity as a teen. It reminds me of now as I don't know if I've passed college and how I showed up to the last class anyway and I'm doing the work anyway incase I can succeed. I've catastrophised I've failed myself and my daughter one too many times, I may have disappointed though I'm still here! Love reading the honest newsletters.
Taran, showing up anyway is the most rebellious kind of hope there is. That teenage-you carving out identity? She's still in there, only now she’s doing it with more stakes, more heart.
Keep doing the work, even when it feels foggy, being “still here” counts for more than anyone tells us! And your daughter will learn from that, not from the made-up model of ‘never failing’.
I so appreciate you being here 💎
Omggg the pool that sits in the garden for 2 weeks and then gets thrown away, by me.
At ours it sat for nearly a year. I am SUCH a disappointment. THANK YOU for this, for the permission and reminder that when we allow ourselves to disappoint, we stop performing and get to live our actual and real life.
I need to say I am giggling loudly about the pool...loving you all the more!
I was giggling loudly, too! Love YOU all the more!
Ray, a whole year...I bow to your commitment to decay-as-decor. Honestly though, that pool deserved it. And yes, exactly this. When we stop performing, we finally get to live. May your disappointments continue to be wildly liberating!
"I am not sorry for loving my children in ways that don’t photograph well." ❤️
Alicia, isn’t that the line that quietly growls a bit? I felt it in my ribs when I wrote it. Thank you for reflecting it back. Sometimes the love that doesn’t photograph well is the fiercest kind. ❤️
Loved this. I was not a natural mother either. But I didn’t have the information overload that your generation endures. Like Sue Reed said, as grandparents we may continue to disappoint. I find there is much less pressure and fewer expectations, so it’s much easier with my beautiful grandsons.
Melissa, I hear you and I’m so glad grandparenthood feels easier. That lightness sounds like balm.
Just to lovingly say: I am a natural mother to my children. What I’m not a natural at is the performance of motherhood ~ what society tells us it’s meant to look like, sound like, feel like. If anything, my tension isn’t personal, it’s political. The institution of motherhood? That’s where I chafe. That’s what NOISE, my feminist book on motherhood, gets stuck into.
Thank you again for your thoughtful words. I love when these deeper distinctions surface. 💖
“Not a natural mother” was a clumsy way of saying I didn’t feel I lived up to expectations of mothering of my era. I watched friends who seemed to parent with such ease and grace, but I found it overwhelming. Your post and comment has prompted me to reframe my thoughts about who I was as a mother. It wasn’t that I was not a natural mother. I did it my way and I have two beautiful sons who made it to adulthood in spite of mistakes I might have made. If I am a more natural grandmother, it’s because I’ve given myself full permission to do it my way, not worrying about grandmotherly stereotypes. And in my Substack and book that I’m writing, I’m trying to give grandparents a new model and set of practices to follow that challenge today’s expectations of grandparents as babysitters and fun seekers. We can be so much more for our grandchildren. They need us to be more.
Of course you know how much I love this. Every word 💖
Julie, I felt your 💖 beaming through the screen. Thank you for always catching the heart of it and for cheering on the mess, the truth, and the glorious fuck-ups. Couldn't ask for better company!
🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓
And on it goes as our kids have kids of their own and we continue to disappoint another generation.
Sue, I bow to your multi-generational wisdom. Disappointment really is the family heirloom, isn’t it? Gets passed down like the good china, slightly chipped, still in circulation. You’ve clearly earned your stripes in the long game. 🫶🏼
I was never the mom who enjoyed the crafts, the egg dying, Christmas decorating, cookie baking, dressing your children to the nines to show how "good" of a mom you were. It did always feel so performative. I never felt it was my job to entertain them, it was enough of a job to feed, clothe them and keep them alive, and I only had 2!
I remember giving a "lifeline" to a friend of mine when her kids were younger (mine were about 10 years older then hers). She was exhausted from running her yoga studio business, teaching classes all day and then going home and playing with her kids all the time. I said "why the hell are you playing WITH them? You are their mom, not their friend or sister. That's what they have each other for." Seemed simple enough to me, but the idea of doing things differently than what she thought made her a "good" mom changed everything for her.
Thank you for this permission slip for all moms out there!
Yes, thank you for sharing! And the question you raise for me...WHO are we disappointing? I think we think it is ourselves, but you make me think of it more deeply. Who came up with those standards and images and myths of womanhood that we absorbed so much we think it is our own self we disappoint, but the freedom that comes from it suggests otherwise. The way we want our daughters and goddaughters to disappoint suggests otherwise. The standards were never our own, were they?