Snow in mid-October had made her cranky. She clung tightly to herself and cursed at her choice of coat. “It was supposed to be warmer than this,” she said with disdain. “And it was definitely not supposed to snow.”
We were setting out on a trail near my home. It was with sheer desperation for fresh air and time with another adult that we did so. We were both mothers teetering on the edge of sanity and self-doubt. The back and forth of failure and redemption swung wildly and left us both dizzy and breathless. My friend looked down at her brown leather hiking boots and cleared her throat.
“I just cannot seem to get it right anywhere I look. I’m wrong at every turn,” she said sadly, tucking her black curls behind her ears. “I’m on top of Steven’s homework, chores, and friends, but now he’s so angry. His behaviour with me has gotten worse, not better, and it makes everything more difficult. Each day is filled with arguments and pushback, and he doesn’t even care about punishments! Everyone around me has opinions of what I’m doing wrong, but they don’t live what I’m living. They don’t know that I have tried everything.”
I turned to her as we began to scale the hill. “Of course. They can’t know that,” I told her softly. “My guess is that they’re only trying to help, but you interpret it as disapproval and…”
She cut me off with a pointed finger and a harsh look. “It’s not helpful! Not at all!”
I nodded with understanding and let the moment fizzle out in silence. So often (but not always), mothers bear the burden of doing most of the raising of children, so we bear the blame as well. We feel it, warranted or not, like a vice around our bodies, pulsing like contractions with every success and failure. We breathe with relief during the times when all is well and running smoothly and mentally beat ourselves up when muck and chaos seem to reign. The worst critic, it seems, lives between our own ears.
“Honey, no one knows Steven like you do,” I offered gently. “Now, that doesn’t mean you can’t seek advice, especially when things are heated or unclear. But it does mean that it’s you who will ultimately know what to do, especially if you’re taking care of yourself and doing your own healing work.”
We diverted off the trail to look at the waterfall more closely. The sound of it was a balm for the soul today.
My friend stopped and took a deep breath. “I know you’re right, and I haven’t been doing that. I’ve been so consumed with how all of this is ‘on me’ that I have not been taking care of myself.”
“What’s so easy to forget is that Steven has his own path. He has his own mistakes to make. You do not control him, and you guide him. And much of that will simply be done by example.” She nodded, and I continued. “This is not a competition of whose child behaves the best because that’s not even a good indicator of loving parenting! Your main job with Steven, with anyone with whom you are in a relationship, is to be willing to heal your own stuff.”
“‘When I am healed, I am not healed alone,'” she quoted.
I smiled. “Exactly.”
We headed back to the trail and began our descent. I continued, “You’re gonna mess up. I do it all the time, especially when I’m trying to prove something to someone else.”
She shook her head in disgust. “Ugh, I know exactly what you mean. And there’s no pleasing anyone!” I nodded, and she spoke again. “Like a while back, I made a decision not to share too much personal stuff on my social media except for some pics of the kids or of me and Brad. I did that because I had some friends complain that I sounded ‘whiny’ and ‘too dark.’ So I thought, OK, I’ll keep that stuff for my close, close friends only. But then, recently, those same friends have been saying that I’m fake and trying to portray a perfect life online. And I’m like: I cannot win!”
“Right. You can’t. So try not to worry. Your friends are dealing with their own stuff—that much is clear from their vacillation. So here we are again with our only work: to heal our own minds.”
My friend unzipped her coat, having been warmed by the hike. “Thank you, I feel better. Keeping my own side of the street clean is all I really need to do.”
“Yup,” I replied.
There was nothing so comforting as knowing we were not alone, nothing so freeing as a good vent session, and nothing so helpful as remembering we cannot do it all.
Introducing… the Equestrian Dreams series by Tiffany Noelle Chacon
This romance series follows Mila and Anya Kozak, two sisters whose lives are forever altered by a horse riding accident. Set in the world of competitive show jumping, Equestrian Dreams is a sweet romance about falling in love, facing your fears and building your own happily ever after. The series is a heartwarming, emotional drama with all the horses you could ever want—perfect for fans of Wild Hearts Can’t Be Broken and Heartland.
The prequel novella, Off Course, is available free HERE.
JUMP, the first in the series, will be free on October 3-4 on Kindle HERE
And FALL, the second in the series, will be $0.99 on October 3-4, so it’s the perfect time to download the series! Get it HERE.
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Lastly…
I’m part of another giveaway!
If you have not yet ordered your copy of my latest book, The Sweetwood Series, you can get it for FREE (plus many other sweet romance novels) by clicking the graphic below.
Enjoy!
