A Good Mother Can Be Human Too. Who Knew?

In the last installment of this series on guilt, I discussed the false and conditioned belief that we are guilty if someone else is uncomfortable or disappointed. I suggested a reframe, namely, to see guilt as an opportunity to become aware of and challenge the cultural narrative that sits behind your guilt and that your behavior threatens. And to question the conditioning we receive about who and how we should be as good women and good mothers. Furthermore, our agreement to feel guilty reinforces a broken system that promotes destructive and faulty narratives.

What we don’t learn is that we can meet our own standards, behave in a way that we respect, and even be proud of our choices and efforts, and, at the same time, someone else can be disappointed in us, and not get what they need from us. The experience of being in alignment with ourselves and someone else being unhappy and even unhappy with us, lo and behold, can coexist. And yet, we bring in guilt to bridge that gap and create cohesion, to make those two seemingly disparate experiences make sense. Guilt is there to remind us we’ve done wrong on account of the other person’s disappointment, which further promotes false assumptions of our responsibility. This is the primary narrative that we struggle with as women, and the one that keeps our guilt at the ready and on constant replay. If someone is not okay (other than ourselves), then we have failed at our primary job–taking good care of others.

But even though we’re not taught this, we can deeply care about other people’s experience, and also, not feel responsible for it, or for controlling it. We don’t have to blame ourselves when someone else’s experience is not what they want it to be. We are responsible, solely, for behaving in a way that’s in alignment with our own values, doing our best not to hurt others or ourselves, and trying to be our highest selves. Hurt still happens, amidst all that, it is not our fault, and also not in our control.

On the long list of cultural narratives we absorb and feel guilty about when we don’t obey, here are a few:

A good woman should:

Never take care of her own needs, “over” anyone else’s, and never her child’s needs.

Be selfless and have no needs, unless they don’t inconvenience anyone.

Be responsible for other people’s experiences. If anyone is disappointed or unhappy, it means that she failed and must fix the situation.

Have no boundaries, never say no.

Always be available for whatever is needed.

Never have limitations or be imperfect; she should be super-human.

Never attend to what she wants just because she wants it, for herself.

Only say no because she can’t, not because she doesn’t want to.

Always be available to hear what’s wrong with her and how she can improve; she should never need to defend herself or push back.

Always be even-keeled and never emotionally dysregulated, upset, angry, or not okay.

Never wants or needs to be with just herself.

Always be working on her personal growth and improvement, never okay with who she is now.

A good mother should:

Always wants to be with her children and seize every chance.

Enjoy the activities her children enjoy, never be bored or dissatisfied.

Get all of her needs met through her children.

Always be on top of everything happening in her child’s life, never forget anything, or let anything slip through the cracks.

Never needs to be seen or appreciated for her efforts.

These are just a handful of the beliefs we’ve learned about being a good woman, but there are many more.

When we break one of these unwritten narratives, guilt steps in as the emotional enforcement system to keep us trapped in a faulty system. The truth: We feel guilty because we’ve broken a narrative that needs to be broken. Guilt tells us we’re doing something right–not wrong!

To change these culturally conditioned beliefs, we need a new plan:

Every time guilt rises, ask yourself:

  1. Is this my guilt or learned guilt? Do I feel okay about how I behaved?
  2. What have I done right in this situation?
  3. What is my actual crime here, the actual thing for which I’ve been convicted?
  4. What is the cultural or personal narrative that my behavior challenges?
  5. What does breaking that rule suggest about me?
  6. What am I afraid will happen if I break this assumed code of conduct?Next, reframe the narrative itself. Ask what you believe is true and if it’s different from what you’ve been taught to believe. Remind yourself that rejecting guilt is saying no to the stories that keep us stuck—the tax we pay for getting to be seen as good. Ask yourself: Can good enough ever be good enough? When do you get to be real and also be good? Why not now?Create new beliefs and mantras to support them.I am allowed to have needs.I am allowed to do something for no other reason than because I want to do itI am allowed to be imperfect, to be human. I can be imperfect and good.I am allowed to take care of myself.My needs matter. My needs matter just as much as other people’s needs.I am allowed to take up space and have a say in what happens.I’m allowed to say no to set boundaries and limits on what I can offer.No is a complete sentence; no doesn’t need an apology to accompany it.It’s okay that other people are disappointed; they will survive disappointment, and I will survive disappointment.Other people’s disappointment does not mean I’m guilty.I’m only responsible for my own actions, not for how other people react to them.Discomfort is a normal experience. Getting comfortable with discomfort is my work.Discomfort creates change where change needs to happen.Discomfort means I’m stretching, moving outside my comfort zone.Discomfort is liberation.

Find out what you need to hear and know to be free. Tell it to yourself, again and again and again.

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