Nowhere to Hide

The other day while crossing the Bay Bridge, I began to wonder why motherhood feels so hard at times. Granted my child was screaming bloody murder in the back seat but my questioning went beyond the unpleasantness of cries in a small, enclosed space.

When I lay out what I'm doing, it doesn't seem that difficult. Changing diapers, soothing upset tummies, keeping my child alive with my body, learning to turn a 10-foot piece of cloth into a baby carrier. (ok, those last two are actually quite hard.) And then, while singing "Good job baby" for the 100th time in hopes of calming my still screaming baby, it dawned on me. Motherhood is an endless parade of firsts and fuck-ups. Most moments of the day I have no idea what I'm doing and that’s very uncomfortable.

In the past, I avoided things I didn't understand or grasp quickly. I just couldn't handle looking foolish or being bad at something, which kept me away from exploring new activities, hobbies and experiences.

But with motherhood, we don't get to avoid what we’re not good at. We don't get to stay in the comfortable "zone of known". We have to try and fail and keep coming back to what we suck at UNTIL we don't suck anymore.

We have to find a way to be OK with looking foolish, making mistakes and not knowing, which is currently taking every last ounce of courage we've got.

All newness is tough. New kid in school, new relationship, new job. And what we’re being asked to remember is that firsts are also an invitation to touch upon our resilience and the possibility of adventure.

And every time we remember THAT, we can smile and cry, and thank motherhood, again, for not letting us give up. For showing us that we can survive what's scary and new and frustrating, not only with our children but in every area of our lives.

 
 

 
We have to find a way to be OK with looking foolish, making mistakes and not knowing, which is currently taking every last ounce of courage we’ve got.
 
 

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