Showing Up

I don’t know if there is anything more defeating than realizing you are not the mother you always imagined that you would be.
I think the older you are when you are first initiated into motherhood the more crushing this reality becomes. Maybe because you had more time to really solidify the fantasy, not just of having the kid but of being the woman with the kid.
Raising a human is the hardest fucking job in the world. I’m not just talking about keeping a child alive. I am talking about RAISING them. Meeting their needs. Shaping and forming their little brains to be integrated and equipped for the sequential developmental stages that are inevitably going to come whether your child is ready or not. Whether you are ready or not. Each one bringing with it relief from the last and a whole new bucket of challenges you have to face and figure out. Whether you want to or not.
Conscious parenting is fucking hard.
Paying attention to your kid and yourself and your reactions to one another. Realizing in the moment that you are reenacting with your own child dynamics that you despised. Realizing it’s too much, that your kid needs you to be better and feeling like you can’t be any better than who you are right now.
That moment of realization is fucking crushing.
I thought I would be better.
But I’m not.
Feeling pretty down on myself right now. Questioning what the fuck is actually wrong with me that my body responds in such intense ways that then drives words out of my mouth in flections and tones that my kid later throws back at me in moments of her own irritation. The nerve this little human has. To act just like me…
I am sucking at this.
It’s an extra layer of mind fuck to be a child therapist, helping parents navigate these torrential waters. Makes me feel kind of like a politician just pretending to be more morally evolved then my constituents. Isn’t that what a leader is supposed to do? To be better?

I say no.

If I hold onto that belief then I will be useless as a therapist.
The greatest gift I can give my clients and their parents is my honesty and my humility that I too am also trying to figure it out. That I mess up. That I swear at my kid when I flip my lid. That I lose control and that I feel shame when I do. That I am not fearful of owning this truth, not in an attempt to deflect the inappropriateness but rather to model accountability and the willingness to keep showing up. Even when I really don’t want to.
The greatest gift that I can give my kid and my clients is to keep showing up.
In my anger.
In my disappointment.
In my shame.
In my fear.
In my joy.
In my excitement.
In my determination.
In my process.
In my healing.
I lead by example. I lead by being human, not a politician.
I lead by showing up because showing up in itself is enough.
The mother that keeps showing up IS the Good-Enough Mother.
The therapist that keeps showing up IS the Good-Enough Therapist.
The child that keeps showing up in their unfiltered, unapologetic, unrestrained, impulsive, loud, emotional self is more than enough. Every time.
If I can’t tolerate that then it’s MY job to learn how to. Not to project my shame and incompetence into my child. She is just being herself and it’s MY job to teach how to be better at being human. I can’t do this if I am not in the constant process of learning how to be a better human myself.
So here I am showing up.
For you.
For me.
For my kid.
For humanity.
For the greater good and the greater self.
Every time.
Every day.
Until I transcend the holy makeup and beyond.

Bodies of info performing such miracles / I am a miracle made up of particles / And in this existence / I’ll stay persistent / And I’ll make a difference / And I will have lived it.

Nahko and Medicine for the People – Aloha Ke Akua