I Am Not Her: Self-Acceptance as a Mother

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Sometimes, I find myself thinking about her.

The one who probably rises at 5 am to do something wild like go for a run or attend hot yoga.
Her time management skills are impeccable.
A caesar salad is a treat for her, and she’s diligent about drinking water every day.
She excels at work and is fully present at home.
She thrives in the routine of each day.
She schedules appointments for herself and keeps them.
She knows which skincare products to use and what colors to wear.
She is perceived as put-together.

Does she exist?

Oh yes, I’m certain she does. Somewhere.

But who is she?

She is the one that embodies everything I’m not and perhaps a bit of who I envisioned myself to be as a woman and a mother.

One thing I know for sure is, I am not her.

I hit snooze on the alarm and rush to get everyone ready in the morning.
I’m always running late or in a panic about being late.
A carb-loving, sugar-addicted l who oscillates between extreme restriction and indulgence.
I am dehydrated.
I feel the pull of the need to be at home working whatever little jobs I can but also terrified by the fact that I lack a career.
I lose myself, and perhaps my soul, in the monotonous repetition of parenting life.
I rarely make medical appointments for myself and then berate myself for it.
When I do get fully ready, I feel like a little girl with no clue about what I’m supposed to do.
I am a mess. A hot mess. Not the sexy kind, but the sweaty kind from running around looking for the remote.

Sometimes she pops into my mind. I contemplate how she handles things. If she even experiences real anxiety.

I know I am not her, but I am me and I am okay with that.

I am a pretty good mom who worries endlessly about my children.

I do everything in my power to uplift them and reassure them of my love.

We confront autism and a blood disorder together because, at the end of the day, we can do hard things.

I adore my husband and his ability to make me laugh. He ensures the kitchen is clean every night and doesn’t judge me for leaving piles of laundry around.

I cherish my little family and how we strive to balance chaos and joy.

We have our meltdowns, arguments, worries, and fears. But amidst it all, we’re brimming with laughter, silliness, and the simple joy of being together.

I’m not implying that “she” doesn’t experience these things. Perhaps, somewhere out there, exists a mom who’s flawless. Who has it all and does it all. But all I can do is embrace myself. Some days, I try hard, and other days, I simply survive.

Written by Jaime of Jaime Ramos Writes

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Jaime Ramos

Jaime Ramos, is a wife and mom from Colorado. She's married to her best friend, Isaac, and they have two kids. Her oldest is seven and autistic. She mainly writes about her a-typical parenting journey. Jaime is a blogger at Jaime Ramos Writes and co-host on the Table for Five, No Reservations Podcast. She wants to spread the word that spreading love and awareness is key to acceptance.

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