Mommy Finger, Baby Finger

The last two months have been a whirlwind.

My daughter is now on summer break and we’re making new friends, sleeping in (because we can — YAY!), and swimming a whole lot.  

The truth is, after my breakup, I took some time to reset, recharge and refocus. That’s why I haven’t posted in over two months. Answered every call or text. Ran to every invitation. I needed to do some personal inventory. There were some real tough days for my kid and I. But, in the process of navigating the breakup, I found that life has actually gave me the opportunity to embrace vulnerability, take courage and turn vulnerability into strength.   

I can say it’s been an emotionally awkward, stretching time in my life. To start, I’m going to therapy and we’re doing this thing called EMDR. During the week, I’m taking Latin dance classes by myself and most recently, my daughter and I decided to learn how to roller skate together. Being new at all of these things has felt hard and scary. Yet, I think that as adults we often forget how all of these feelings are normal but sometimes we avoid stepping outside of our comfort zone because we’re afraid to be seen as weak.

At this age, I have realized that most of us were raised by parents and generations that believe that showing pain or vulnerability is a sign of weakness. But I’ve learned that what looks like weakness, is actually far from weakness. In fact, research shows that hiding our struggles and suppressing our unwanted emotions is unhealthy for everyone around us. Researcher Dr. Brene Brown, one of my favorite people, describes vulnerability as the birthplace of true intimacy and belonging. It’s also that unstable feeling we get when we step out of our comfort zone.

My daughter knows I see a therapist. Sometimes, she will ask me questions about it and I give her appropriate answers. She may not know all the details about what happens at these therapy sessions, but she knows I’m committed to becoming better, even though at times the process feels exhausting.

Growing up, I remember feeling like I had to figure life out on my own – that feeling only grew as a single mom and led to depression. I want my daughter to know that she can come to me to talk to me about her mental health without any shame, and if she ever needs help, she can have the courage to ask for it.

I also want my daughter to see my own personal growth. I want her to see the true story of who I was and who I became. Even though she says that in her eyes I’m “SUPERMOM,” I kindly remind her that I am not and that I am far from it. I want to normalize prioritizing my health, self-care and happiness, so that she doesn’t grow up believing she needs to put herself last to keep her home together. She can take time off and choose herself.

I have found that sharing my vulnerability has been a gift to our relationship. I’ve talked to her about my fear stepping onto the dance floor to dance salsa with people I didn’t know and the excitement I felt afterwards. She could identify with that feeling when she stepped into the skating rink for the first-time last weekend. She told me she was scared, and I admitted I was, too. Others were watching. Parents would shout at me, “You’re doing great!” Neither of us could avoid the awkwardness of stepping into a skating rink looking uncoordinated, jerky and falling on our butts. While my daughter did cry a few tears and almost quit, by the time we were done skating we looked so much better, and we knew we wanted to keep learning to skate together. Later, that same day, I had a rough situation and she heard me crying in my room. She sat on the floor by my bed and said, “Mommy, I don’t know what’s wrong, but I know it feels hard like it did for me at the skating rink. But it gets easier – like you told me.”  

It was in that moment that I realized how vulnerability makes room for real, uncomfortable, conversations and a safe space for unconditional love.

When you let your child see your humanity, they’ll see that you are not so different from them after all and that they don’t have to be perfect, hold it all together or know it all. They can see that even with all of their imperfections, they are still so worthy.