Let me share a little secret: I used to be a perfectionist. It’s not that I believed I was perfect, but rather that I felt an overwhelming urge to excel in every facet of my life. I was a people-pleaser, constantly worried about how others perceived me. Everything had to be done flawlessly.
In the early days, this mindset seemed manageable. I thrived in school, found a partner who was my perfect match, secured a wonderful teaching position, and kept our first charming apartment spotless. I even prepared elaborate meals for my husband, and we enjoyed our time together, going to the gym and dining out. Life felt perfect.
Then came the kids.
Don’t misunderstand; my children are the greatest joy in my life. The issue arises when you attempt to maintain a perfect standard while raising little ones. I put in the effort to balance friendships and be the ideal spouse. I aimed to keep every piece of laundry folded, maintain pristine floors, and ensure that every school assignment was signed. Yet, the more I strived for perfection, the more I found myself resenting the chaos that came with family life.
You know those little ones who leave crumbs everywhere? Or the ones who abandon toys in every room? Not to mention the husband who places clothes on top of the hamper rather than inside it. They’re the ones who can’t always ask for things nicely and sometimes quarrel with their siblings. It felt like they took more from me than I had to give, and I was left feeling exhausted and irritable.
But the pressure didn’t stop at household chores. I also had high expectations for my children’s academic achievements. When parent-teacher conferences revealed less than favorable reports, it crushed my spirit. This wasn’t about comparing myself to other mothers; it was about my internal struggle. Am I measuring up? Am I giving my children the best? Is my husband satisfied with my efforts?
Fortunately, I began to recognize this harmful mindset before it could negatively impact my children. I’ve always linked my self-worth to my performance. As a teacher, I received validation through evaluations, but parenting lacks such a grading system. There’s no report card indicating how well you’re doing — especially on the tough days.
You know those days when the kids are late for school because you can’t find a shoe? Or when dinner is nothing more than hot dogs because you’re just out of steam? The days when you find crayon marks on freshly painted walls? Those days are far from perfect.
The reality is, life is messy. And it becomes increasingly chaotic with kids around. It took me ages to realize that striving for perfection is futile, especially in parenting. As Phyllis Diller famously said, “It’s like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing.”
I’m slowly learning to embrace the chaos. I sweep less and hug more. I scrub less and laugh more. I’ve also started involving my kids in household chores, which has been a tremendous help. I focus more on what my kids feel than what other moms think. I guide them to become their best selves rather than trying to mold them into my version of perfection. Ultimately, they won’t remember how spotless the house was, but they will cherish the love and warmth I provided.
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In summary, striving for perfection in motherhood is an uphill battle. Embracing the messy, beautiful moments is what truly matters.