So I suck, and maybe you do too. Now what? No seriously, someone tell me.
At some point in your life you have likely uttered the phrase- “I suck,” and not just once but many times. It will be in reference to all kinds of things - cribbage skills (ok, I admit I actually have no idea what that is, so I probably DO suck at it), communication skills, parallel parking, the time you forgot to get your mother-in-law from the airport (Kidding, but I bet someone has!). The list goes on, but hopefully, not too long. And, with any luck, most of these things you “suck” at are one-offs (or two-offs if it involves the in-laws, even if they are great like mine!). The upshot is that these are safe things to suck at because a slip up in cognition or lacking cribbage skills isn’t an all encompassing part of your being. You know you don’t actually suck in your entirety.
But what happens when it is bigger than parallel parking and cribbage? What do you do when you realize that the thing you’re sucking at lately is you?
If you’re like me, somewhere in the plan of trying to awesome-sauce yourself into adult life, the script changed. Without warning, and to your dismay, those college accolades, those memorable nights with friends, the travels abroad, the time you got so close to the Queen of England, you could smell the royal wafting off her, and all the things you thought made you special and interesting to strangers on airplanes and cocktail parties no longer seem to matter. Why? It could be for a number of reasons. But for me, and for many of us, it was because kids entered the equation…
I will start by saying, I never planned on having kids. It wasn’t my priority. Professional life was. Then life happened, but not in the “oopsie” sort of way.
For surface level reasons I readily admit out loud, and for deeper reasons I am only ready to admit to myself, I walked away from a doctoral program when I was nearly 2/3 done, and it was a career path I wanted! But then I didn’t. Or I did, but I was too scared to face what that accomplishment might mean. The pressure of success as well as the implications of what I was going to give up in exchange- the whole FOMO of not having kids got in my head.
Fast forward 9 years from the point I walked away from school. I am a stay-at-home mom with two children who (I love dearly btw) seem to simultaneously see the good in me while fully capable of bringing out my absolute worst. I don’t know many parents on the planet who haven’t felt that way at some point, but again, with any luck, those are sporadic suck moments.
What about when sporadic turns into a general baseline? Me? I read parenting books, I journal, I do therapy, and bless the work of Thich Nhat Hahn and his way of floating along the Buddhist path like an enlightened butterfly, but has he tried raising kids who’s sole purpose of existence is to highlight his shortcomings?
Sigh.
Despite my best efforts, I blinked and suddenly realized my sporadic moments of “mom rage” were becoming more frequent. Ok, perhaps not every instance was full-blown rage, but the short-temperdness, the inclination to yell or scold, the sarcasm, the general inability to tolerate basically anything negative crept up on me. It leaves me feeling like I couldn’t gentle parent my way out of a brown paper bag. It doesn’t help the brown paper bag is a tiny version of me that is sometimes hitting or kicking me, but I digress.
The anger is starting to feel like an addiction, and consequently, a slow rewriting of my brain, I am stuck in a loop-fight mode. Or perhaps it’s due to the slow deterioration of my frontal lobes? If it didn’t happen to so many other parents, especially moms, I might start believing I have early onset dementia.
As it is, I don’t think that’s the culprit. I do suspect there is a healthy dose of perimenopause going on, but that isn’t the only reason. After all, this anger addiction doesn’t just apply to us women of a certain age.
So, the other night after stressing about travel and unnecessarily lashing out at my partner, I figured out the problem. The diagnosis? I suck, and maybe you do too. Ok, now what?
Well, first, I told myself no tv time or podcasting in the shower tonight. Tell me I’m not the only one who does this! It was time for some self reflection. Why is anger my preferred mode of being? My safe place? Because it is about safety. Anger is often driven from a fear response. So what was happening in my everyday life that was triggering that fear and the consequent suckage? Well, two rambunctious children on a summer break is a good way to trigger one’s emotional hot button issues, but what else?
What scares me? Well, aside from summer break, my working hypothesis is two-fold. A fear of losing control and a fear of invisibility, of not being seen (and implicitly liked, respected, and valued). And what’s a great attention getter? What’s a good way to force the situation to what YOU want? Anger. The emotional manipulation, however unintentional, that goes into this choice to respond with anger is not only that suddenly your kids or your spouse see you, but often times they will then approach to make amends, act right, and to show you that you matter. That is where the addiction comes in. Sure, the short-term release of anger might feel good, but when it is paired with the dopamine hit following a child’s conforming to your expectations as well as their affection to get back in your good graces, that’s a suck spell very difficult to break.
So I suck, and I think I know why- because I’m scared. Are you feeling a bit let down at the banality? Me too. You might say it sucks! It isn’t anything ground breaking. It’s an emotional Easter egg that has been laying around for over 30 years waiting for me to find it. Ok, I see you- “suck egg” (see what I did there?). Now what do I do with this new insight? Meditate? Sure! Keep trying to float through life’s troubles like a Buddhist butterfly? If that’s your thing! Therapy? Most definitely. But what else? What am I missing?
Time
Patience
A sense of humor
And the answer to the question what would it look like to let go, to choose to not be in control to feel safe, to not feel under existential threat from other’s disinterest or their rejection? What would it look like to have the courage to accept the missing piece where my self acceptance and self worth should go?
Because if anger is about fear, then it is high time to find my courage to accept myself (and my kids and my spouse) for the people we are. Now, I just need to figure out how to get there, and not having an instant answer. Well, it, you know….
To any of you on this journey of self acceptance and self-awareness. I see you. I applaud you. Keep searching and let me know when you find you.
This is delightfully honest, incredibly well written, and highly relatable.
Resmaa Menakem has some great writing about the nuance between comfort and safety, and how often we respond from feeling unsafe, when, in fact, we might simply just be uncomfortable. I was thinking about that when you described the relatable parts of being stuck in a fight and anger stance, and how, for me, that often is triggered by feeling unseen or unvalued; a place that may have been unsafe in my past, but as a whole adult person with a fully developed prefrontal cortex (and, yes, access to therapy 😉) it is often just an uncomfy feeling that does not warrant the response I'm giving it.
I always love hearing your thoughts and how they get my brain moving, as well. Thanks for putting yourself and this out there.
Dang. This one hit home HARD. Being in the middle of yet another move and having to unpack seems to be a trigger for me. My fear is probably the unknown of what our new norm will be here. Who will I meet? Will they be nice? Is it going to be a toxic environment? I know you know all the fears and frustrations behind this one. But I think my anger is also exhaustion from having to do this again and again but not by my choosing. And that’s triggering resentment. Sounds like I need a therapist. A glass of wine with my Jess would sure be nice too! 😭