Can I Get a Yay Mommy?

Sometimes when I’m feeling under-appreciated I shout out to my children “Can I get a ‘Yay mommy’?” like a southern Baptist preacher asking his congregation for an “Amen”. Ben and Lucy, being well-trained in this ritual, never hesitate with their reply. I love our silly, little game and the shock value of doing it in public where unsuspecting strangers witness my self-serving bit of child brainwash.

But no matter how easily I can shout out my request for adulation in jest, I have a very hard time accepting genuine praise when it comes my way. For me, and so many other women I know, it’s much easier to receive the negative.  Maybe this is caused by the burden of unattainable standards we impose on ourselves with the help of societal influences and images in the media, or maybe it's just an unfortunate quirk of my personality.  More likely it's both.  But no matter what influences this mind set, it's something I would like to change about my myself.  Like everyone else, I'm a work in progress and this is definitely an area where I continue to work.

There’s a lyric in the Kelly Willis song, "What I Deserve," which has always struck a chord with me: “My skin lets it in. It’s always been too thin, since I can’t remember when.” It has, for as long as I can remember, been easy for me to believe anything bad I hear about myself from the world and nearly impossible to believe the good.  I’m far too quick to accept negative comments, rejection and criticism and reluctant to accept praise, admiration or approval. Tell me I’m an idiot, selfish, or not as nice as I think I am and I take it all in. Every word. But tell me I’m smart or pretty or a good mom and I’m likely to trivialize it with a, “Pfft,” and a dismissive hand-wave.

Of course, I recognize this is not a healthy thought process and I strive to re-route those brain synapses that work against me so quickly and automatically, but it’s a struggle. Some days it’s a nearly constant battle.  But it’s a battle I’ll continue to fight because it’s important to me that Ben and Lucy not see this destructive tendency in me. I want them to see in me a powerful, strong, confident mom because our kids learn and emulate what we show them. If I show them poor self-esteem, low self-worth and a lack of self-love, I’m condemning them to those same feelings about themselves. I know that teaching my kids to be strong, confident and self-assured is one of the greatest gifts I could give them and I firmly believe the only way to do that is by example. So I’ll fake it until I make it. Who knows? Maybe the process of faking it is its own therapy – a means to an end. If I fake it long enough and convincingly enough, may I'll start to believe it.

Lucy fell asleep in my bed one night recently and woke up briefly when I carried her to her room. When I put her in her bed, she smiled up at me for a moment then very purposefully closed her eyes and told me she was going to un-pause her dream. When I asked her what she meant she said she still had a dream in her head and wanted to get back to it.

One of my greatest dreams for my children is that they will be strong, confident and sure of themselves. That they will have a deep-rooted, healthy love of self. This particular dream for my children is a dream I’ve had for myself for as long as I can remember.

Maybe it’s time I un-paused that dream.