The Detrimental Intersection of Perfectionism and Motherhood

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In all honesty, I find myself caught in a web of lies, especially when it comes to my children. I’m not referring to the traditional tales of Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. The deception I engage in is far more profound and troubling. Each time I assure my kids that it’s acceptable to fail, I am not being entirely truthful. When I proclaim that perfection is not necessary, I am lying, because deep down, I don’t truly believe it. I utter these words in hopes of steering them away from my own struggles.

The origins of my perfectionism remain unclear to me. It wasn’t until I stepped into adulthood and embraced motherhood that I realized how entrenched this mindset was within me. The challenges of motherhood knocked me off my high horse of achievement, and a decade later, I am still trying to reclaim my footing.

My first pregnancy appeared flawless. I experienced no medical complications, had minimal morning sickness, and even maintained a daily gym routine, sporting a delightful baby bump. My delivery went smoothly, or as smoothly as bringing a 9-pound baby into the world can be. At that point, I felt triumphant in my role as a mother.

However, within 48 hours, the reality of motherhood hit me hard. On just the second day of my new life, my son struggled to latch while breastfeeding, leaving him hungry and frustrated. This pattern continued for days. Over the first eight weeks, I watched my once chubby baby lose weight and heard his cries echo throughout the house as he fought to eat. I was filled with despair—I felt like a failure.

As if that wasn’t enough, my son’s baby acne worsened into eczema, which I unknowingly exacerbated through excessive scrubbing, driven by my desire for picture-perfect moments. Fast forward four years, and I vividly recall a preschool project where he proudly filled out a “Star of the Week” poster. He wrote his “J” backward, and despite being advised not to correct him, I felt compelled to intervene. This poster was destined for display in the classroom, after all. In retrospect, I realize that my actions were misguided, and I am not proud of them.

I am also ashamed of the times I rushed to clean my son’s face to ensure he looked “cuter” for family gatherings, or when I winced at his basketball skills compared to his peers. I regret the arguments with my daughter about her messy hair and the moments I insisted on re-folding towels that weren’t aligned perfectly.

At nearly 38 years old, I am the mother of three wonderfully unique children, each perfectly crafted just as they are. One is a brilliant bookworm with a penchant for invention, another is a kind-hearted soul who expresses her love through crafts, and my youngest is an energetic ball of laughter. Despite their individuality, I find myself wanting them to experience failure. I want them to learn from setbacks and understand that failure does not define their character or worth.

I can preach these values, but I often struggle to internalize them for myself. Logically, I know that my children’s imperfections do not reflect my parenting. I recognize that a cavity at the dentist does not signify my failure to monitor their sugar intake, nor does a less-than-perfect grade equate to poor parenting. Yet, my insecurities can overshadow this rationality, leading to anxiety and a relentless pursuit of perfection.

It’s clear that I do not want to be this kind of mother—one burdened by unrealistic ideals. So how can I encourage my kids to understand that perfection is unattainable? I suppose I must lead by example, allowing myself to fail and permitting them to do the same. I will accept that life is messy and imperfect and take pride in my beautifully flawed family.

Today, I will resist the urge to refold the towels. I will let my daughter style her own hair, regardless of how it turns out. I will celebrate their creativity and the chaos that comes with it.

In a world obsessed with perfection, I choose to embrace the reality of our perfectly imperfect lives.

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Summary

The article discusses the struggles of balancing perfectionism with motherhood. The author reflects on their own experiences with parenting, the challenges of accepting failures, and the importance of teaching children that imperfection is a natural part of life. By embracing their family’s unique qualities and allowing room for mistakes, the author aims to cultivate a healthier perspective for their children.