There’s this girl I know. She hates me. She watches my life with avid fascination…every little thing I do. Mostly, I’m able to avoid her, but every now and again, she finds me.
Yesterday, I was having one of ‘those’ days. You know the kind – when life seems too much and nothing goes according to plan? I was feeling like a failure because other people seem to manage the juggle so well and I was just.not.managing. Well, I bumped into The Girl. She looked at me and smirked. She looked at my disheveled appearance and her satisfaction was palpable.
Without a care in the world, she said, “You’re pathetic. Your husband deserves better. Your kids deserve better. You are a failure, Michelle.” Just like that.
Devastated, I replied, “You’re wrong! I try so hard! It’s just so hard sometimes to juggle being a good wife, good mum, good friend and then still try to find time to write and be productive. I am trying my best! Sure, I’m struggling a bit, sure I’m no supermodel, but I’m fine, just as I am.”
Again, she laughed. “Yeah, right. I see you smiling and trying to pretend to yourself and the world that you’re happy with yourself. I know the truth, Michelle. You’re not. You don’t deserve happiness. You can tell yourself you’re worth-it all you like, but we both know you’re not.”
I started to cry.
She continued, “You’re NOT a good friend. You’re not there for the people who need you. Your children need so much more from you than you give them. You are letting them down. You forgot your nephew’s birthday, you haven’t phoned your mother and I’m sure your siblings have given up on you. I won’t even start on your work. That’s laughable.”
I tried to tell her she’s wrong. I tried to tell her I AM worthy. I tried to explain that I try my hardest to be the best mother to my kids I can be, and I know that I fail them often but I also know that I am a wonderful mother most of the time. I tried to explain that I struggle with my weight and finding time to exercise and eat right is sometimes a massive challenge. I tried to get her to understand that I wish I had more time to see friends and catch up but that life is so busy that it steals weeks away between catch-ups. I tried. I really did.
She wasn’t listening.
She looked at me, shook her head, and walked away laughing.
I hate The Girl.
I know where she lives.
I wish she would move.
But she won’t.
Because she lives in my head.
Want to know how to keep The Girl away from your daughter?
Read this post about how our negative self-talk affects our kids’ self-esteems.
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