Momming Ain’t Easy
The Card I Never Sent and Why Parents Suffer Alone
Still in its plastic, this is a card I bought about 10 years ago, sure that I would have the opportunity to send it to a friend struggling with a tough parenting moment.
“Momming Ain’t Easy”
Why — when we know that there are no truer words on the planet — have I not, in TEN YEARS, seen fit to send this card to a friend — to acknowledge or empathize with a vulnerable moment that no parent on Earth escapes? Why, without saying so, do so many of us feel obligated to innately know how to parent flawlessly?
Why aren’t we honest with one another about the fear, worry and frustration that is a universal part of parenting?
I have been just as guilty as the next person of suffering in silence and pretending that everything is fine when it’s not. In 2022, on the heels of Covid, my junior in high school was isolating, not getting out of bed, and avoiding school and friends. We faced, what seemed at the time, an impossible decision about getting him the help that he needed. It took the suicide of his close friend a few months later for me to finally realize that to not share my own experience with others was not only cowardly, it was also inauthentic. My fear of judgment kept me from sharing my own story and possibly helping others harboring similar concerns and feelings.
Where I live — in a hard-charging, high-achieving, high-expectation community in the Northeast — to admit that we don’t “have it all together,” is often a bridge too far — a confession that may signal to others that we (and our families/ children) aren’t… good enough? If comparison is the thief of joy then the crime rate is through the roof in my (also) quaint, lovely town, which is home to many terrific people. But for many of those people, the vulnerability associated with admitting to despair in parenting combined with the very few safe places to turn to for support, and a culture of silence around “kid struggles” also suggests that we are a community of high achievers who are also extremely lonely and isolated in our feelings of worry and despair.
And so, we act like “Momming” is a breeze — something that we were born to do well — because to admit we struggle seems the ultimate failure.
After all, does anyone ever post a story about their explosive child on Instagram? Their child with ADHD and learning issues that can’t keep up in school? Their child who isolates in their room or in front of video games because the pressure of being outside of it is too scary? Their child who screams vitriol at them — because they are the safest target for their feelings that life is out of control and they blame the safest person — often Mom? Their child who remains uninvited to parties time and time again?
Never. We only see bright and shiny smiles; reports of super stardom on the sports fields; announcements of college inroads; happy families on fun trips. Only the best.
Not reality.
Yeah — we joke with each other about our “pain in the butt” kids every once in a while — because laughter is often a mask to deep pain — just look at Robin Williams or Matthew Perry. But these “pain in the butts” are nervous wrecks because they’ve been raised by nervous wrecks who are afraid to let off the steam of their anxiety by commiserating with each other in honest, constructive ways.
We live in a society that doesn’t talk to each other — REALLY speak the truth to one another — about the hard stuff. We ask one another, “How are you? How’s Bobby?” and feel like the only answer has to be, “Great. Everything’s swell.” We suffer in silence, worrying deeply — because to put it out in the world is… shameful.
And shame, according to Brene Brown, is “the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging — something we’ve experienced, done, or failed to do makes us unworthy of connection.”
Last week, a seemingly popular and successful teenager — an athlete — in the community neighboring my own took his own life. It was a stark reminder of pain we felt two years ago when my son’s friend died by suicide in 2022. The ratcheting up of fear over what if that were MY kid reignited.
We ask each other, what can we do? We tell our kids to talk to each other if they’re feeling despair, but we don’t practice what we preach.
Let’s stop suffering in silence. Let’s speak the truth to one another, build community around how hard parenting REALLY is. Let’s share resources and support rather than judge and condemn.
When we parents are falling apart and worrying in isolation, we are only hurting our kids. Our kids are only as strong as we are. And, whether your child is 3 or 30, it’s never too late to get support. We are stronger together.
We tell our kids “It’s OK not to be OK.” The same goes for parents who bear heavy burdens of their own worry: raising kids in this Type A, overachieving world, making enough money to keep up with the Joneses, dealing with demanding jobs and demanding relationships — it’s hard. It’s okay to admit it.
I remember saying to a good friend who was trying to get pregnant years ago, “Parenting is the most selfish thing you can do.”
“Really?” She said. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you are choosing to bring a human into this world. Your baby didn’t ask to be here.”
Parenting is a deliberate act — most of us choose to be a parent and nurture a human from birth to adulthood. When that baby is in our belly and we are decorating the nursery, we have no idea how hard it really will be one day. Why do we think we can or should struggle through the hard part of that journey alone?
So, let’s tell the truth. Let’s support one another. Let’s stop suffering in silence.
Because “Momming Ain’t Easy.”
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Are you or someone you know worried about their child? If so, I am a life coach who moderates parent support groups. Strength in numbers is real. Connection and coaching with others struggling with similar issues can be transformative. This is especially true for parenting.
If you are seeking a supportive tribe struggling with similar issues, let’s connect. I am actively building new parenting groups regularly.
