I’ve always envisioned myself as a mother. Despite not being particularly nurturing (I was a less-than-stellar babysitter), I assumed that once I became a mom, maternal instincts would kick in naturally. I pictured myself as one of those moms who couldn’t resist showering babies with love and delighting in the adorableness of chubby toddler legs. I thought I would effortlessly engage in baby talk and play games like patty cake, conjuring up sweet nicknames for my kids while maintaining a calm demeanor at all times. Isn’t that the quintessential image of motherhood?
This idealized vision of being a mother has been ingrained in my mind for as long as I can remember. Society feeds us this narrative, making it easy to feel inadequate if we don’t share that overwhelming affection for babies or experience an instinctive desire for motherhood.
Watching other mothers, I see them tenderly cooing at infants and embracing the chaos of parenthood with grace. I know moms who co-sleep and nurse for years, who communicate with their children in a gentle tone. Observing all this leaves me questioning: Is something wrong with me? Am I missing the so-called “mom gene”?
I don’t enjoy baby talk, and I tend to shy away from excessive affection. After a brief cuddle, I often crave my own space. I admit I can be impatient and, yes, I raise my voice more than I’d like. I didn’t co-sleep, and my attempt at breastfeeding felt short-lived before I switched to formula.
Sometimes, I find myself wishing I could be more like those other mothers, wishing I had their innate calmness and warmth. I wonder why I don’t feel that rush of emotion when I see a cute baby, and instead feel indifferent.
Most of my waking moments are spent questioning whether I’m doing enough as a mother. I observe and read about parenting, striving to embody some traits I see in others. I often wonder if there’s something fundamentally wrong with me for not fitting the maternal mold.
Yet, it’s vital for us mothers — and for me, in particular — to remember that there’s no singular “right” way to be a good mom. There’s no special mom gene. Motherhood manifests differently for everyone, and being maternal — whatever that may entail — isn’t a prerequisite for being a loving and effective parent.
Previously, when reflecting on my capabilities as a mother, I did so through the lens of societal expectations and comparisons to how other women parent, rather than focusing on my unique relationship with my children. I used to feel like I was somehow flawed in my approach, believing I was lacking in some areas. But all that self-doubt stemmed from comparing myself to others, not from an understanding of my own parenting style.
While I may not exhibit the same levels of patience or affection as some moms, it doesn’t diminish the fact that my children have me as their mother. I may have my quirks, but I love them deeply and protectively. They may not receive the same cuddles as other kids, but they know I’m their biggest supporter. They’re happy and secure, largely because I embrace a style of parenting that feels authentic to me.
Of course, there’s always room for growth, and I often fall short of my own high expectations. However, I also recognize the many ways in which I excel at motherhood in a way that resonates with me.
So, whether or not I possess that mythical mom gene doesn’t really matter. After all, there’s no such thing as the mom gene — unless we’re talking about mom jeans, and in that case, I don’t have those either.
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In summary, every mother’s journey is unique, and nurturing comes in various forms. Embracing your individual parenting style is what truly matters.