Mommy Shame

I was recently enjoying some time with a few friends. The subject turned to our children. If you are the mother of a newborn or a 40 year old, this seems to always be the subject to which we gravitate. Some days this is great, but other days it brings up dread. This particular day, I really didn’t feel like talking about my kids. I love them, of course! I cannot imagine life without my two amazing kids, but as many of you know, that love is also intertwined with a huge burden that they turn out as we have so often prayed.As we ran the gamut of topics specific to teen moms, we talked about dumb phones, the latest apps, driving, sports, dating, etc. Everything seemed so easy for the other moms. It isn’t true, but that is what the enemy wanted me to believe and in that moment, I did. Somewhere in the midst of the conversation, I felt myself taking a step back. There are some things that haven’t worked for us., I was hearing things that made me wish our journey as parents looked a little more like theirs.The reality is that I have talked with women of toddlers who have the same experience. Isn’t it nice that Susan’s son was sleeping through the night at 4 weeks, walking at 9 months, and was fluent in Spanish by age 3? The comparison game does not end when our children start school or even when they graduate. We can’t all have children who are the quarterback of the football team or the valedictorian. What about the mom who sits among the parents in the bleachers week after week just praying her son will get in the game? What about the mom whose child prefers not to (or can’t) engage in all the activities our culture uses as a yardstick of success? Those moms are around us. As a matter of fact, we are those moms.As I reflected on my own experience, coupled with the knowledge that I share that knot in my stomach feeling with thousands of other women, here was my epiphany: we cannot remain silent. In our silence, the enemy wins.Sunday morning I saw one of the friends who had been a part of this initial conversation. I knew if I was not honest I would begin to shut down in the friendship. She would probably never know. We are both busy and busyness keeps us inconsistent in our contact anyway. But my heart would know. So, as our conversation turned back to the familiar topic of our children, I just decided to be vulnerable. I pulled back the mask and confessed that it was hard to talk about our journey. I think I even uttered the word shame. It felt vulnerable for a moment, but the friendship actually took a step forward with my willingness to be honest. It had nothing to do with what was said to me. It had everything to do with the lie I had believed. In that moment I broke my silence, the enemy lost and the friendship won.I dare you to speak up.