My Story

I have written before about how I believe parents should support one another. How we should resist the temptations to make snap judgements. That we should practice the compassion we hope our children will have. I have written about mothers shaming each other through the spread of catty gossip. Earlier this week, I witnessed two moms pass judgement on another. They shook their heads. They talked in not-so-hushed tones. They made the other mom feel awful and reduced her to tears.

That other mom was me.

I was leaving the coop like I do several times a week. My daughter was standing on the back of the cart as we crossed the parking lot. There were two women right behind me. My daughter asked to get off the cart and I told her no, she had asked to ride there and now she had to wait until we were somewhere safer than the middle of a busy parking lot to get off. She yelled “NO THANK YOU!!!” I responded the way I usually do, but admittedly with far less patience. I told her that her words were hurting my feelings and that her behavior that day had not been very nice. I asked her what was going on with her. Apparently, this was all too much for the ladies behind me, overhearing the conversation I was having with my daughter.

Looking back I am sure my tone wasn’t the nicest. This tiny situation was the proverbial straw. A culmination of being the sole parent for two weeks while my husband is out of town for a month. I am sure my less-than-stellar reaction to a tiny request may have seemed disproportionate. And herein lies our lesson:

They didn’t know my story. Everyone has a story.

A raised voice doesn’t signify a bad mommy. It may be the last resource an exhausted woman has before completely melting into a pile of tears. A moment of zoning out on an iPhone doesn’t automatically mean a neglectful parent, it may be a mother who is stretched too thin trying to find a moment to connect with her friend to find some solace. A mom who caves and lets her child have a cookie for lunch may not be permissive, she may be choosing not to wage war on her determined tot. Instead, maybe she realized that details won’t be seen when the big picture is looked back on later.

Those moms didn’t know my story. They just saw a moment of weakness and exhaustion. Also, they didn’t see the hugs and kisses as I buckled my daughter into her carseat. They didn’t hear me apologize for not speaking as nicely as I should have. They didn’t hear a tiny, nearly three year old, voice respond with, “It oh-tay Momma! I wuv you. You best Momma ever!”

They missed all the love and happiness and only zoned in on the 15 seconds of challenge. They decided it was ok to shake their heads. To stare at me and my daughter while we tried to work things out. To talk about me like I couldn’t hear their words. They decided to pass judgement and make me feel like an absolutely awful parent in a moment when all I needed was someone to tell me that I wasn’t. They made a fellow mom...woman....human being...feel awful.

As I have said in the past, this has got to stop! We don’t know what other people are struggling with. We don’t know their story. Instead of assuming they are awful, assume they need reassurance. Assume that no good, no kindness, will come out of making them feel worse. Put yourself in their shoes. Would you appreciate shaking heads and hushed judgments or would you prefer a kind smile and a helping hand?

I am far from a perfect parent. I have my flaws and I confess to them all. I am human, just like those other moms. We are all flawed. Was I saddened by their actions? Yes. Did they make me doubt my ability to be a good momma to my sweet girl? Absolutely. Am I angry at them for judging me? No. We are all perfectly imperfect. We only do better when we know better. I have faith that they simply didn’t know better. So, instead of beating myself up, I will learn from this experience. I will grown and try my best to do better.

When I inevitably have an off day, I hope that instead of shaking heads, I encounter kind, knowing smiles. I hope I encounter someone who realizes that we are all perfectly imperfect and we all have a story.