It was a late Saturday afternoon when my partner and I stopped at a travel center for coffee after a day of exploring. As I hummed along to a Whitney Houston classic from the comfort of our car, I noticed a young girl—perhaps eight or nine years old—step out of a nearby car with an adorable poodle. Moments later, a woman who seemed to be her mother joined her, taking the leash from the girl as she skipped inside the center.
As I observed, the mother engaged in a lengthy phone conversation while leading the poodle to the far side of the travel center for a smoke. Minutes ticked by, and I found myself thinking, Why isn’t she checking on her daughter? Doesn’t she know about the dangers out there? Just that week, I had heard an Amber Alert for a missing child in the area.
When the girl finally emerged with a colorful rainbow slushy, I let out a sigh of relief—only for it to be short-lived as the mother handed her the poodle and stepped inside again. I couldn’t help but wonder if this mother was being foolish. The world can be so cruel; didn’t she realize that?
As my husband returned with our coffee, I took a sip, feigning it needed more sugar to stall for time. I felt compelled to keep an eye on that little girl while her mother was preoccupied. What could make a parent think their child was safe in such an uncertain world? Didn’t she watch the news?
However, as I continued to judge her parenting choices, I was reminded of my own history as a young mother. I recalled a time when I was perhaps too trusting. I felt a lump in my throat thinking about how someone might have judged me without knowing my heart. Just after my husband left the Armed Services, we had three children—two young boys and a baby girl. While he took a city exam, I waited with our kids in a high school gym. A friendly woman offered to watch my sleeping daughter while I took my sons to the restroom.
Looking back, I am grateful my husband showed up just in time, sparing me from the pain of what could have happened. I used to believe in the goodness of others, a hope that perhaps that mother at the travel center still holds. Maybe she envisions a better world for her daughter, one filled with trust and safety.
Not long ago, at our favorite restaurant, I noticed another mother with a child who had special needs. She received disapproving glances from other parents for allowing her daughter’s hair to be wild and free. Perhaps this mother had desperately needed a day out, a moment to breathe and enjoy a meal she didn’t have to prepare. It struck me as heartbreaking that her choice was scrutinized, despite having no impact on her child’s well-being.
Why are we so quick to judge one another? Fathers often escape criticism more easily than mothers, yet we’re all in this together—seasoned and new mothers alike, learning and growing each day. Instead of casting judgment, we should extend kindness, offering smiles or words of encouragement. We need to stand in as guardians for each other’s children when life distracts us, as we all face our own struggles.
That evening at the travel center, as the mother and her daughter got into their car, I silently apologized to her and all the other mothers I had misjudged. I cranked up Whitney Houston’s song, feeling a renewed sense of understanding.
In a world where parenting can feel isolating, let’s strive to uplift one another. Remember, we never truly know another’s story.
Summary
In this reflective piece, the author shares a personal experience that highlights the judgment many mothers face while parenting. Through the lens of her own past, she encourages empathy and kindness towards other mothers, emphasizing the importance of supporting each other rather than criticizing. By acknowledging our shared struggles, we can create a more compassionate community.