I ask..
“Why are we so hard on ourselves’?”
I have this awful habit of being my worse critic. But aren’t we all, in a sense, our own worse critics?
For instance… I am not very happy with my last few blog posts. I always feel as though I could have done better.
This is my do-better…
I’m a single mother and bills are growing faster than my child is. There is this constant need to prove to myself I can do it all… yet I don’t reward myself or even give mE half of the credit I deserve.
Like most critics, there is always something keeping me from a five-star rating. Whether it’s the bill I forgot to pay or the time I’m unable to spend with the little one because I’m working to pay them all. It’s just me. And I set the bar too high even for myself.
My child’s “better half” gives his time. I am utterly grateful. Only, time alone doesn’t pay the bills. Still, I give him honorable mention for being there to always spend the time needed so I can in fact pay all the bills on my own. The fact that he is around to give his time at all is a blessing because daycare is not cheap! So the sense of urgency to get it all right comes from me literally being the end all, be all to my family’s livelihood. Just me and my baby.
Overheard “the baby daddy’s” thoughts, regrettably… his opinion of me? mm not so high. He has his reasons. In my opinion we all falter, it’s the getting back up that builds our character. I am the supermom, Nazi-critic of self without the helpful critique of others in the same boat; just trying to stay afloat like the rest. One would think that I’d allow myself a little slack after making a nobel choice to have a child and be a mother instead of a model, pop star, stripper. This decision, though a dilemma to some, was a complete no-brainer for me. I didn’t even think twice about it. Faced with this decision many young women have to make, regardless of the inevitable struggle, the determination to show I could be a great mom trumped all other options. You’d think that I would at least get some compassion from the one who helped put me in the predicament to have to choose in the first place. It wasn’t even a toss-up between my dreams and motherhood. I almost forgot about the opportunity of a lifetime given prior to a negative pregnancy test to travel the world and get paid to do so until I was reminded. See, I just stayed put to be closer to my child’s father and family, gave birth to a beautiful life made from love, and hit the pavement hard working ever since.
His choice, on the other hand was a no-brainer as well.
He’s living out his dreams while I hold down the fort. His lyric stabbed “…she ruined her chances at ever becoming a model.”
Wow.
Air… I needed air; to breathe from suffocating myself so selflessly in the name of love and respect. (..irony from a previous post)
“..ruined her chances at ever becoming a model.”
That echoed in my head… for a while until it hit me like a front page tabloid:
I WAS a model… then I chose to become a mom.
I never told him about the modeling contract awaiting in Atlanta. Or even bigger, “the opportunity…”
The excitement of telling him I was pregnant overruled. Thank God I didn’t have to spend another week trying to figure out how I was going to tell him I was moving across seas, all expense (travel, condo, $75 per diem) paid to be a spokesmodel for a cosmetics company. Didn’t tell anyone about that ticket to Milan. I stared at it for years… years of tears. I made it.. without making it.
“..she ruined her chances at-“
Yea..
That day… I finally burned that ticket from my memory with the purple lighter he gave me. That was the day… I ruined all my chances at ever becoming a model.
I can almost guarantee if I chose to …I don’t know to silence the “blue plus sign”, bypass “Planned” Parenthood, and go straight to the “Termination” clinic that this would have been more than just a lyric to a sad song, it would have been a sad album filled with resentment dedicated to an unborn child.
We are hard on ourself because we know… I mean really know what others have yet to figure out; what we are truly capable of. All the things we say we would never do and do otherwise, the things that set us apart from the rest. We know what makes us, drives us, inspires us. Our choices should make us proud of who we are because they are ultimately what defines us.
There is this tendency in the air that plagues us like an airborne disease, that we have to make all the right decisions to the point that one false move… sickens us. It paralyzes our potential by allowing us to waste time in deep thought of what should have been done. Truth is… no matter how much we sit, ponder, drown in our sorrows as a paraplegic that can’t tread water we cannot change the decisions we have already made.
My decision to have a beautiful child was a five-star decision. I recommend this choice any day. Furthermore, to all who have made such a major sacrifice in their life…
You are a critically acclaimed lifetime award-winning champion!
CELEBRATE:
GO EASY ON YOURSELF!
Love who you are no matter what the critics say..
even if that critic is U!
Love mE, hate mE… no matter what the critics say they can’t bE, mE
Femmina Fatale
Femme Fatalé 