Motherly insecurities

Motherly insecurities. Mine sometimes feel like they are my own. So I’m constantly conflicted, are these thoughts that I am afraid my daughter will one day grow up to have? Or are they my own thoughts, that my daughter will learn to one day make her own? I suppose some of them can be a little bit of both, if I let it.

I browse my social media every day. I follow like-minded people, and mothers I admire. I hope to one day make a similar living for myself. I feel the same passion for certain things, like the fact that I’m not entirely alone in this. But with public expression, come the public’s opinions. Welcomed and not. I hope to develop admirers of our own along this journey. I hope to perhaps inspire a few people of my own. But, I’m fully aware that I am also doing things my own way, untraditionally. Some things because I want to, other things because its what’s best for all the people in my daughter’s life. I’m a single mother, but I rely on quite a few people each day to help get us by. So whether I like it or not, not everyone is going to understand us. Not everyone will agree, so I’m expecting some criticism.

Over the years I have thickened my skin. I would still say that I’m a sensitive person. When I feel for something, I do so passionately. I cry at the thought of children alone and afraid. I cry at the thought of losing a friend. I’ve held on to my first love, for far more years than he deserved. I still grieve the death of my grandmother, and am heartbroken each time I see her picture. But over the years, over the many obstacles I’ve had to endure, certain things don’t hurt anymore. So even though, I might seem to be overly sensitive, because I cry during Bambi. I might seem cruel when I don’t extend my hand to help someone whose hurt me, no matter how desperate a situation they are in. I guess it’s two extremes, and very little in between.

So as I keep battling with myself, between wanting to do this and still being scared. I just remind myself of every other moment in my life when I was afraid, and how bad it really wasn’t in the end. For the first time in a long time, I feel capable of doing anything that I want to set myself out to do. Despite the mini challenges that each day holds, I’m more capable than I ever was. I hope those are the things that I will teach to my daughter.

 

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