I got it wrong, but then I got it more right...

If you're looking for a sweet Mother's Day story to warm your heart, this isn't it. If you're looking to own your own behavior, consider why you do what you do, and say what you say, this GB Real story might just be the mirror you need to look into.

When I found out I was pregnant, I remember reading the book What to Expect When You're Expecting. I wanted to know everything from the experts so I could be the perfect mother. In my memoir, Brave Enough To Be Bliss, I share the following excerpt from a pregnancy journal I kept (and I will share several other excerpts from the book throughout this blog in italics).

Some of my thoughts from the second three months before you arrive are…whether or not I’ll be a good enough parent. I know I’ll do my very best, but it’s hard not to worry that won’t be enough. I know, though, that you will always have all the love and support possible from your Daddy and me. We may not be able to give you everything you want materially, but we will do our best to offer whatever you need emotionally.

I sound fairly healthy in this excerpt, acknowledging my fear and desiring to give her the important things every child needs to thrive, love and emotional support. But that was before...when she was growing inside of me, when I felt like I could keep her warm and safe and protected from the world. Of course, that was just a figment of my imagination because if she had been born or if something occurred later that was imperfect or caused her any pain, I would have then had to assume responsibility for that. It would have had to be my fault, something I ate, something I drank, something I did, something I didn't do. I would have had to torture myself for something that cell division, genetics, natural causes, someone or something else, or even worse the unknown was responsible for...and I would have done it for a lifetime.

I would have feared the fact that I did not have control of all things, so in an effort to avoid feeling the fear or the pain or the loss, I would have done and said everything I could in an attempt to feel in control and in the process I would have created my own misery, prolonged and deepened the pain, and I would have likely ruined the very relationships that could have sustained me.

Because that's what we humans do. We think life and love should be perfect trying to avoid pain at all costs. So, we desperately seek control of the uncontrollable or those hurtful things we've chosen not to heal from. And often we seek or manufacture answers that only prolong our pain rather than accept that we do not have control. It's human, it simply isn't necessary.

But no one told me that. No one told me the truth. No one modeled a healthy perspective about life and pain and loss. No one told me the simple fact that life...is...hard. Real life is not about living with constant fear while desperately seeking control to avoid pain...that is an attempt to live a fake and fairy tale life. Real life is about giving and receiving as much love as we possibly can because love is what will carry us through the hard and sad times that are sure to come.

Instead, I told myself I sought a perfect life for my daughter...but I've done enough healing now that I can shamelessly admit that what I really sought was a perfect life for my daughter, so I didn't have to feel my own pain. The subconscious reality in my mind was this...if I could create a perfect life for my daughter, maybe I could live that instead of living my own wretched existence. I can admit that now, but it wasn't always that way.

Nothing can rip parents apart like knowing they haven’t protected their child from pain. I remember my daughter rolling off the twin bed onto the hardwood floor before my husband’s grandmother’s funeral. Of course, I knew better, but it was just for a split second while I grabbed her dress from the other bed that I could literally reach without taking a step. But it happened so quickly. I had just turned my head from her for a brief moment. While she was likely screaming from fear as much as pain, it was the first time I can remember doing something so directly that led to her pain and it…tore…me…up. While there wasn’t any visible or long-term damage, my mind went to all the things that could have happened and the what ifs and why did I and if only I hadn’t. I had set out to protect her from all harm and that is how I judged myself on being a mother. Ensuring my little girl was safe, free from pain and always happy was the bar I set when she was born and anything less than that was failure as a mother. I was clearly doomed.

The difference between sounding healthy before she was born and this...was the panic that set in behind the sheet in the operating room when they were trying to remove her from my womb. She was in a frank breech position, so even though I had chosen to allow them to try to turn her through an external version procedure, when I arrived at the hospital on July 15, 1996, there wasn't enough fluid to safely try to the procedure even though there had been on the previous Friday. I've always been puzzled about how fluid could have escaped without my knowledge over the weekend. It's still a quandary for me 28 years later, but I digress. Because I couldn't see what they were doing, and when my husband stood up to watch the surgery, I began to panic. The reality that I couldn't see what was going on, no one was telling me what was going on, but I could feel the energy change in the room and knew something wasn't going right. It wasn't painful, but I could feel the tugging. The perinatal specialist who was going to attempt the external version had stayed for the surgery, so when the obstetrician asked for her help it became clear that something wasn't happening as planned. While it probably was only seconds, it felt like an eternity for them to get her out of me and during that eternity every possible thing that could go wrong was going wrong inside my mind and I wanted to scream and hyperventilate and have someone, anyone tell me it would be OK...but they were all watching what was happening on the other side of that sheet.

I was used to blending in, trying not to be seen so I could stay out of trouble, keeping quiet, never asking for help...so this was no different, I simply suffered in silence. Except there was no silence in my mind, everything was crazy loud in there and it was chaos and I was panicking inside...and then I felt the release and thought for a split second everything would be ok. Until the next-level fear set in because she wasn't inside me anymore. She was the outside in this scary world with its scary people.

And it would be like that until a few years ago. Living in fear, attempting to gain control, and setting an unhealthy example for my daughter. There's no question I have loved her unceasingly, but love and behavior are very different things.

I chose the photo of her from her first day of kindergarten because she looks scared. Today, I so wish I had been there to hug her. She still might have been scared. She might have even cried when I left, but she would have known I was there and somehow, I feel like that would have felt a little less lonely for her on the inside having a comforting hug from her mom, even if the outward expression didn't change. I could say I wasn't there because of work or any other number of reasons, but the truth is I told my husband the only way I could have a child is if he took care of the drop offs at daycare/school and I did the pickups because it would be too hard to leave her. I was unwilling to face even everyday little pains even if my actions may have helped her.

I just wasn't healthy enough to see what I was doing because I had become so good at lying to myself, to my daughter, and everyone else. The following excerpt describes when I finally was able to own my behavior and apologize to my now adult daughter.

“When a parent can’t apologize to their adult child, it’s not because they’re always right. It’s because they can’t admit when they were wrong.” Whitney Goodman

"When she was maybe 6 or 7 years old, she had a neighbor friend stay overnight, and I told them it was too late for any Dr. Pepper. I had just gone to the store, so the storage bin in the refrigerator was full. The next morning, I came downstairs and opened up the refrigerator to start some breakfast and happened to notice two cans of Dr. Pepper were gone. I went to the trash can and there the empty cans were right on top. When my husband came downstairs, I asked him if he had them, and he said no.

After her friend left, I remember asking her if they had Dr. Pepper the night before. She said, “No.” I said, “Really?” giving her a chance to change her answer, thinking she wouldn’t stand there and lie to my face again. And yet, she did. I explained to her that, of course, I knew they had each had a can because I noticed them missing as soon as I opened the door of the refrigerator and then saw the empty cans in the trash. I said that while she would have been in trouble for doing something I had already said she couldn’t, now that she had lied to me twice, that made it even worse. I told her it was OK to make mistakes, but when we do, we at least need to be honest and tell the truth.

But as an adult, I had done something far worse and lied about it far more times. I think that’s what made it feel so awful, that I had lied about it even after the divorce when she had given me the chance to ‘fess up. Looking back, I honestly don’t know why or how she kept loving me. She never completely gave up on me, as she very easily could have.

It wasn’t something I planned for, and I can’t remember if I had read something or I was writing, but I realized one morning how important it was that I talked with her, and asked if she could stop by. I had been crying quite a bit, so she knew something was up when she walked in. I had tried to pull myself together, but I knew it wouldn’t last long into the conversation, so there wasn’t much reason to try and cover it up. I don’t remember how I started the conversation or what all I said, but I do remember she said, “That’s all I ever wanted, for you to be honest.” I deserved so much more condemnation, but I was met with compassion, forgiveness, and love.

And just like everything else, the harder it was to talk about, the more freeing it was when I found the courage to speak. Heading into the conversation there was some fear, but it was so much more shame than fear. Just ugly, ugly shame.

I knew she realized years ago that her mom wasn’t perfect, but verbalizing the shame and vulnerably showing the emotion that came with it did nothing but strengthen our relationship because it was only then that she knew she could trust me as well as love me."

“To be fully seen by somebody, then, and be loved anyhow—this is a human offering that can border on miraculous.” Elizabeth Gilbert

I am very grateful that my daughter wants to spend Mother's Day, or really any day, with me. Grateful to her, but perhaps even more, grateful that I found the courage to face my own pain and fears and to give up a constant need for control, because without that, I wouldn't have been able to apologize to her, to model for her a process of healing, to allow her to see that it's hard and painful and sometimes downright awful, and yet to show her that it is through facing the pain that true joy can then emanate.

“The degree to which a person can grow is directly proportional to the amount of truth they can accept about themselves without running away.” Leland Val Van De Wall

First the pain, then the joy. Without facing the pain, there still might have been smiles, but they wouldn't have been this real. There may have been some time spent together, but it would have existed at a surface level. There could have been memories made, but they would have been shallow.

But because I decided my pain would no longer rule my life, my fear would no longer dominate my existence, I get to have this. I get to witness my daughter living her life. I don't feel responsible for it. I don't worry about it. I don't pretend I'm sacrificing for it. I trust her to live her life in the best way she can with what she knows right now and how she chooses to live it. I get to feel all the love and experience all the joy of being her mom and friend now because I was brave enough to be honest with myself and sincerely apologize for getting it wrong before I learned how to get it more right.

Never perfect, just more GB Real.

#braveenoughtobebliss #gbreal #love #joy #selfawareness #selfreflection #joy #apologies #parenting #mothersday #selfhealers

If you're interested in reading Brave Enough To Be Bliss in its entirety, hardback copies can be purchased at cost through the link below or a free digital book is also available. There is no financial gain for me in sharing this book, not because I don't think it has value, but rather because you are worthy of the investment of my time, energy, money and tears if you can learn even one thing you didn't already know that could help preserve or repair a relationship and lead you to a little more love, joy and life than you have today.

Parenting Related Book Chapters & Resources:

Page 1: Section I, Chapter 1 Not Fair, Just Life

Page 38: Section II, Chapter 9 Motherhood & Madness

Page 43: Section II, Chapter 10 Three's Company

Page 46: Section II, Chapter 11 Better Together

Page 62: Section II, Chapter 14 Hard-Knock Life

Page 68: Section II, Chapter 15 No More Excuses

Page 86: Section III, Chapter 4 The Deepest Pain

Page 102: Section III, Chapter 7 Leaning Into Discomfort

Page 118: Section III, Chapter 9 Sweetest Surrender

Page 145: Section IV, Chapter 1 New Loves, New Life

Page 153: Section IV, Chapter 3 Blissfully Bolen

Page 251: Section V, Chapter 4 Love Always Protects

Page 258: Section V, Chapter 5 Receiving Care and Feeling Loved

Page 324: Section VI, Chapter 2 Blessing God, Being Blessed, Blessing Others

Page 332: Section VI, Chapter 3 Fabulous Friend & Family