Recently I saw a little video short on the internet with a mother getting a constant earful from her guilty conscience who claimed relentlessly that no matter what she did, it wasn’t good enough. It was funny, and also a bit sad because it is so often what we experience. I’d have posted it but it was an embedded clip and I couldn’t share it.
Why do we experience guilt?
We want to be good mums. It’s in our DNA. We can never be perfect, so there’s always room for a voice to complain “you’re not good enough.”
Is it a reasonable “voice” to listen to?
Not usually, no. Usually this is a condemning echo in our brain that says we’re not good enough, not kind enough, not permissive enough — or too permissive. That voice can never be appeased, so best not to listen to it.
However, there are exceptions.
Often our thoughts will rest on a mistake we’ve made; we feel deeply in our conscience an inner conviction that we’ve done wrong. But rarely do we recognise the past is over! So, how do we deal with this ‘voice’? We forgive ourselves and to the level it is appropriate with our child, we say sorry (demonstrating humility and culpability) and smile and move forward — trying to remember not to do the make mistake again.
Perfection
We’ll never be perfect. So why bother to try?
We’re not actually trying to be perfect so that we have a guilt-free life, are we? We’re actually trying to be good parents, who are loving, kind, strong, determined, protective and … loving! (Note the repetition of the word loving because really and truly, I believe love is at the core of everything else.)
We cannot be perfect. But in the eyes of our little ones (yes, the bloom comes off the rose somewhere around age 10 or 12), we are gods: we are perfect, we know everything, have infinite love and resources and superhuman strength. And so, we try to do our best for them.
And when we succeed, we are modelling achievement for our children. And when we fail, we are modelling humility for our children…. And when we do okay? Well then, we are modelling the reality of our humanity.
And that’s all good.
So let’s aim for love
I think love is a brilliant aim. I think that’s an achievable aim. I think that’s a virtuous aim. And that can help to say “shut up” to that needling little voice that says, “You’re simply not good enough.”
Blessings,
Sarah