I’m good at baking. Lister the man the myth the smeghead vintage retro T-shirt. She listened. She died. There is nothing more to the identity of a good mother than motherhood itself and motherhood is enough.
I instilled the myth of a good mother throughout my first life, even if my understanding of myself had nothing to do with motherhood and my identity remained vague and unclear.
Lister the man the myth the smeghead vintage retro T-shirt, hoodie, tank top, sweater
I don’t count the Lister the man the myth the smeghead vintage retro T-shirt days until I become a mother, don’t imagine my life being perfected by a child, and don’t define my human role in motherhood.
Then, at the age of 29, I suddenly wanted to have children. About a year after this desire was revealed, I had my first daughter.
My daughter turned 16 in April. She’s not happy. Her days, cons limited by the epidemic and further cons limited by being too young to drive her, were flooded with screens and anxious.
Her middle school years will be completely virtual. Her interactions with friends are mostly limited to Snapchat. She was an only child, not by birth, but by her sister who died of cancer three years ago.
It took me 19 years to understand that making my child happy is not my job.
It took me 19 years to realize that arranging the Lister the man the myth the smeghead vintage retro T-shirt happiness of others was in fact an impossible task.
My older daughter died before she could benefit from this wisdom, but it’s probably not too late for Emily.
You’d think I learned my lesson in 2012 when Ana was diagnosed with cancer. But back then I still thought she was going to hit it. I can’t understand the failure at the most basic measure of good motherhood – a measure so obvious that I don’t even sadly list it with all the other characteristics above.
Good mothers don’t lose children.
However, I did not fail to become a good mother because my older daughter had died.
I did not fail to become a good mother because my young daughter was unhappy.
I failed because I made the wrong assumption that I could somehow control my daughter’s well-being. I failed because I didn’t understand that my need for her to be happy was causing her to suppress her other feelings. I failed because I had tied her happiness to my happiness. I gave her her own impossible task – make sure she wouldn’t be sad.
I was so busy trying to play a good mother, that I didn’t realize I was continuing another myth – it was about my good daughter.