Judgments

It's been a while, but lately something has been weighing on my shoulders and I need to push some of the weight off... And I say it's been weighing on my shoulders because the usual phrase "weighing on my mind" doesn't quite fit. I honestly feel a tremendous pressure is on my shoulders and not admitting what I am about to say has been dragging me down with the discomfort and conflicting feelings that are figurative weights on my shoulders.

Maybe this post won't be the same sentiments that you have. Maybe this post will upset you. Or cause you to judge me. Maybe it will resonate with something deep inside of you. Or maybe it will be a waste of your time. I cannot tell you how to feel, but I can say "Don't be a dick". Keep your comments of hurt and unwanted advice to yourself, especially after reading the content of this page.

As a woman, I am judged for everything I do or do not do. If I have children, I am judged for how many I have and how I raise them. If I do not have children, I am judged for not having a nurturing personality. If I get married, then I am judged for how quickly it came about, how extravagant my wedding was, and how much I pamper my husband. If I do not get married, then I am judged for being single or neglecting what is expected of me in a relationship.

As a woman, I am judged for how curvy I am, how skinny I look, or my lack/abundance of my chest size. I am judged for what I wear; how much of it, how little of it, or how much I spent on it. I am judged for my work performance; what my role should be, how much I am paid, and where I choose to work. I am judged for being jealous, needy, proud, aggressive, or meek. I am judged for my chemical make-up; if I am angry, sad, happy, or touchy, then I am on my period. I am judged for every single thing that I do or do not do.

Being a woman is hard. But, genes, right? I am a woman so I go on living my life. I have curves (or rather bumps and stretch marks). I have a less than stellar chest size. I chose to get married to an older man at a young age. I chose to become a mom at a young age and I chose to have two children. I chose to become a preschool teacher and become a perpetual student. I am much more confident than I was in the past, but still get emotional over commercials and words people say to me. I have a small group of friends I adore and a family who loves me. I can be a bitch. I can be sweet. I am a woman... hear me roar and all that comes with it.

However, thanks to unspoken societal rules and unfair judgments by the powers that be, being a woman can be hard. Which is why I think it is excruciating to admit when I need help. It physically hurts and gives me so much anxiety to admit that my life isn't perfect and that I cannot do something. And I know so many other women feel the same way, especially mothers.

Let's talk about motherhood. I became a mom at the ripe old age of 21. I was married and excited and instantly fell in love with my daughter. I thought she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and it was just like the movies and stories describe; every sound she made caused me to smile, every breath she took was carefully measured by my eyes, and there are still no words to describe the joy of hearing a first cry, laugh, or coo. I was over the moon! But, no one talks about the other side of becoming a mom.

Physically and emotionally, it is DRAINING. Physically, your body immediately begins to try and "right" itself from pregnancy; the hormones come flooding with a vengeance, your body is left flabby and stretched out and everything hurts regardless of whether you had a vaginal or c-section birth. Your sleep schedule changes; you get little to no sleep and are left dragging yourself around in a constant state of confusion. Emotionally, you are drained because it hits you that you are fully responsible for the care and well-being of a tiny, helpless human being. While it is joyous and beautiful, it is also overwhelming; there are now doctor visits to think about, bathing routines that need to be adjusted, feeding schedules, and thoughts about head positioning during carrying and sleeping hours.

But life still goes on.

There are bills to be paid, maternity leave (if you are EXTREMELY lucky to have it) to calculate, dishes to be washed, and laundry to fold and put away. Houses that need to be dusted and cleaned. Dinners that need to be cooked and family visits to be made.

It is horribly overwhelming.

And because society believes that new moms are perfect creatures and should cherish every moment, many moms find it so HARD to ask for help or say that every moment it not perfect. It is hard to admit that you don't fit the perfect mold as a mom. That while you love your child, life with a baby and as a family is hard to adjust to. Which is why I spent the first few weeks of motherhood crying my eyes out.

It was the most beautiful and most awful time of my life. I found it difficult to adjust to the lack of sleep, I was scared to death to be left alone with a baby that a few days before I didn't know how to burp or feed or change. I was terrified that hiccups would be the end of the world. Or that I wasn't holding my baby in the right position and she would end up with a flat spot. I caught the baby blues really bad. And it was because it's taboo to talk about not being perfect...it's taboo to ask for help because becoming a mother should be the most precious thing to happen in your life.

But so many women let their baby blues go on for a long time or they don't admit that they have trouble adjusting and need help. They get postpartum depression. They find it hard to talk to their partner about it. They find it hard to approach the doctor. They find it hard to ask for help. Because society expects us to be perfect moms and so in love and to bounce back with a perfect figure just a few weeks later. As women we are judged for every time we ask for help and for every time we don't live up to expectations. This can be especially true for mothers.

I eventually settled into motherhood and shook off the baby blues. And by the time I had my son, I was able to adjust much better. I knew to ask for help. I knew that I couldn't be super mom and that the dishes, laundry, and cleaning could wait. I knew to cherish the little moments and ask others to step in when I just needed a break. It got better.

But, lately I have had a few conversations with friends. And I realized that being a woman is still hard... It still comes with judgment and a sense of trepidation when asking for help or when admitting that we cannot do something.

Recently I have had a lot of family issues. My brother is sick. Really sick. Sorry if you are reading this FH, but it is incredibly hard to watch someone who called you "four eyes" throughout middle and high school, who threw food at you at the dinner table, and who used to talk through every movie and t.v. show, deteriorate and change every single time you see them. It's hard to watch them sleep the whole day away, or be in so much pain that they can barely make complete sentences, that their body is an empty shell of what it has been. It sucks...

I am also facing my own health issues. I spent four days in the hospital two and a half weeks at home recuperating with a diagnosis of Lyme Disease. It attacked my nervous system and caused my neck muscles to be profoundly weak on my left side of my body, it caused my joints to swell, and it took away all of my reflexes in my foot. I am much better than those first days in the hospital, but it's been a long road.

And what hurts me the most is that people say, "You look GREAT" or "You seem like you are doing better". Ugh. I appreciate the sentiment, but it makes me cringe every time someone says that. Because right now I am battling an invisible illness. I look great on the outside, but my body is hurting on the inside where no one can see... My muscles tremble, my hands and knuckles are so swollen that I cannot hold a paperback book, my knee is retaining so much water and the pressure is so intense that I fell down the stairs last week... My body feels like it is constantly in a state of fighting off the flu....the body and muscle aches rival those that accompany a 104 fever. Sometimes I have headaches and tingling in my toes and fingers. Some nights I cry myself to sleep after tossing and turning for about an hour because my joints are so uncomfortable in every position. I can barely pick up my son or run around the yard to play with my kids.

All of this is happening and I barely complain. Because society says I have to put on a brave face...get perfect grades as a Grad student, play with my kids non-stop as a mom, cook and clean as a wife, and put in 110% as a teacher. Ugh...

I have been feeling like this for the past several months and I am scared to DEATH to push the publish button because I know that someone, somewhere is going to judge me. They are gonna say, "She is just seeking attention and wants someone to praise her" or "She is neglecting her kids because she says motherhood isn't always perfect" or "She is just milking her diagnosis. I know someone who got Lyme and they were fine in just a few days" or "No wonder why she looks like shit lately. She is ruining her life". I know that the judgments are gonna flood in because being a woman is hard... There is always someone who is dictating what I can or cannot do. What I can or cannot feel. What I can or cannot say. What I can or cannot write. What I can or cannot admit. What I can or cannot ask for help.

Or worse. People are gonna say "You are an excellent mom" or "I could never tell that you were struggling" or "Look how far you have come" or "Wow. You are so strong" or "You can pull through". Ugh. While the intentions are nice, they are sometimes just as tough to swallow as the judgments.

Because when you reach that point, you know you are a good mom. You know you have made it this far and everyone is still alive and you can make it through the day. You know that life will continue to go on and that you put your best effort forward. You know that there are circumstances beyond your control and everything happens for a reason.

But what I really want moving forward, aren't the sympathy comments. Or the judgments. What I want moving forward are the moments where you stop judging. Where it's okay for women to admit that they need help or for them to admit that right now, they don't feel as strong as they look. What I want is for women to admit that they got the baby blues or postpartum depression without feeling the guilt that accompanies such an admission. What I want is for women to say that they need a break from motherhood or life for a few hours because they need a refresh. What I want is for women to embrace their bodies and to not have to worry about their friend, lover, or a stranger saying that they aren't enough. What I want is for women to admit everything I said and more without being judged by society, by their friends, by their family members, or by their co-workers.

What I want is for everyone to breath a sigh of relief when they push that weight of judgment off their shoulders.