When I first embarked on this parenting adventure, I was convinced that I had to be the epitome of perfection. My child needed to be pristine, dressed impeccably, and radiating happiness in every public setting—because if not, I risked being labeled a terrible parent.
I vividly recall dining out with an infant, completely consumed with the task of keeping him entertained to avoid any disruption. If he cried, I felt like I had failed at my job as a mom.
If my little one had remnants of lunch stuck to his face when Grandma popped in an hour later, I could practically feel her judgment piercing through me like a sunbeam. “You had a whole hour to clean that up, and it still looks like a food fight? What have you been doing?” Of course, she never uttered those words. They never do.
It’s like reading between the lines—you can sense judgment in the unspoken words, the lingering glances, and the enthusiastic scrubbing of dishes in the sink, as if to say what they really think without saying it outright.
No one has ever flat-out told me, “You’re a bad mom.” But the awkward silence or the tension in the air speaks volumes.
In those early years, I was a whirlwind of laundry, face-washing, and obsessive cleaning. My downtime was consumed by researching how to keep my child quiet during flights and figuring out baby sign language. The irony? I didn’t care about keeping him quiet or teaching him signs; I felt compelled to do it because of judgment.
Then one glorious day, I had an epiphany. I realized that I hadn’t carved out even an hour for myself in the last week—no reading, no binge-watching, not even a stroll—because I was too busy striving for the ideal of “perfect parenting.”
The wild part? I never doubted my abilities as a mother. Not a single sideways glance from strangers or whispered comments from relatives ever swayed my confidence. I knew deep down that I was a loving mom who poured everything into my kids. I finally understood that only I could let their judgments affect me.
Now, I truly don’t care if my child’s face is smeared with food or if his clothes have seen better days. He’s just going to find something else to munch on, and most of it will end up on his outfit or in his hair anyway.
I’ve stopped worrying about my baby crying on an airplane. He’s a human being, just like you, and your snoring or chatter bothers me just as much as my baby’s cries might bother you. So, you can either turn away, or I’ll just smile and wave at you like I’m oblivious to your irritation—because ruffling your feathers brings me joy now.
The state of my home? I don’t sweat it anymore. I’ll welcome guests with open arms and point out the dust bunnies lounging around. “Oh, that dust bunny? I named him Fluffy, and I’m just letting him enjoy his solitude for a bit!” Humor eases the tension, and when people see they can’t affect me, they tend to stop trying to change me.
To all you fellow moms who haven’t had this awakening yet—hope is on the horizon! You’ll get there, and when you do, you’ll realize you’re not alone in letting go of the need to care about others’ opinions on your parenting. It’s a liberating place to be! It may feel awkward at first, but just fake it until you make it.
Soon enough, you’ll find yourself playfully shooing your mother-in-law into the house with a cheeky, “Hey there! Mind washing those dishes in the sink? And the kid has some food on his face—could you help with that? Thanks!” (Insert mischievous grin emoji here.)
For more insights, check out this article for tips on navigating parenting.
Summary
Embracing the reality of parenting means letting go of the pressures of perfection. The weight of judgment can be heavy, but realizing that you know your worth as a mother can be liberating. By laughing off imperfections and embracing the chaos, you can enjoy the journey without the burden of others’ opinions.