I Want To Be A Strong Mom

I remember the soccer game I first sprained my ankle quite well. It was a tournament in Burnsville on a steamy summer evening, and I even remember the park and field. I don’t remember what I did, but I remember getting up, putting weight on my ankle, and nearly falling over as my ankle revolted. I should have flagged my coach letting him know I was hurt, but that wasn’t me. I was strong and tough. I was aggressive and fearless. So I kept playing, and when I kicked the ball with my sprained ankle, the pain knocked the wind out of me. Once the game was done, once I had finished strong and proved I was unbreakable, I let the tears fall as I told my mom how much it actually hurt.

I think back to that moment often as a parent. Where did I get that message? That I had to be so strong and invincible? That showing pain and needing help was weakness? No one told me that, but it was a concept that stuck…even into my adult years. 

Being a mom has taught me SO much about myself! Motherhood is an oxymoronic transformation where you simultaneously learn about yourself and lose yourself. One thing I’ve learned is that I seriously struggle with asking for help. 

I.

Don’t.

Do.

It.

I have people ready and willing to help me, who would absolutely step in, but I don’t ask. I foolishly choose to suffer alone than ask for help. Why?!

I do NOT believe this, but there is a lie deeply embedded within me that whispers in my ear that if I ask for help it makes me less of a mom. It says I’m not good enough for my kids because I can’t handle the situation. I’m weak. And when you’re weak, you get taken out of the game and someone better equipped goes in. 

When I first became a SAHM, I remember being embarrassed about it. I was just a stay-at-home-mom, I felt like that meant I was too lazy to work because everyone I knew had kids and worked too. They were super moms doing both, and somehow I felt less because I chose to only do one, like that’s all I could handle. And if I’m only dealing with my kids (by choice), I shouldn’t ever say I’m having a hard day. Plus, I only have two kids, not three like my sisters and sister-in-law. I shouldn’t ask for help because I’m only dealing with my two kids. I made the choice to stay home, I need to live with the consequences. So, pull it together and finish the game strong, Kim!   

So I put on my strong face and appear like I’ve (somewhat) got myself together, but inside it feels like my world is collapsing everywhere I turn. I’ve reached my max frustration, patience, compassion–there isn’t any left! And no escape. Like I’m drowning and I just need to catch my breath. It feels like that scene in The Gladiator where the Emperor stabs Maximus then orders his armor be put on to hide the wound, and then sends him to fight for his life in the arena. That’s what I feel like because that’s what I’m doing, and I wonder how many other moms are bleeding under their armor like me? We hint at our wound, saying motherhood is “hard,” calling it a scratch when really it’s a deep cut, because we are so afraid that if we’re honest and open about this dark side of motherhood someone will confirm our deepest fear–we’re “bad” moms. We’re too weak for motherhood. We’re not cut out for this. So we hide it under our armor. How many of us are putting on the strong mom facade, but in reality we feel hurt, broken, alone, frustrated, disappointed, betrayed, desperate, guilty and so, so very tired?

I know I’m not the only one. So how do we become strong moms? What makes a mom strong? For me, I think of my 3.5 year old daughter–how do I show her strength? How do I model what a strong woman looks like? If I mask my pain, she will never see my resilience. If I hide my fears, she will never see my bravery. If I bury my anxiety, she will never see me overcome. For her to see my highs, she has to witness my lows. To show my strength, I can’t hide my weakness. Nor would I ever want her to! In her lows, I want to lift her up. When she’s discouraged, I want to inspire her. When she cries, I need to hold her! I want that not only for my daughter, but for my mom friends too. And they want the same for me. So when I need help and don’t ask, I’m denying them the opportunity to love me.

When I told my mom about my sprained ankle, she took me to the doctor. I needed to rely on crutches to walk while my ankle healed, and then do exercises to help build the strength back up. Isn’t that true for us as moms? That we need to be crutches for each other, carrying one another when the burden is heavy? Helping those who feel weak gain back their strength? I want to be that kind of friend, but also need to be open to that kindness from my friends.

So what makes a mom strong? A strong mom hurts, then heals. Frustrated, then figures it out. Falls down, then gets back up. Alone, then comforted. Disappointed, then elated. Betrayed, then forgives. Desperate, then satisfied. Guilty, then freed. A strong mom overcomes because she values herself, and sees the value she has to her family and friends. A strong mom knows her limits, her weaknesses and asks for help not because she is weak, but because asking for help makes her stronger. It makes her better. A strong mom doesn’t hide her wounds and try to survive. A strong mom cares for herself by allowing others to care for her so she can thrive. I want to be a strong mom.