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November 12, 2011

Killed Through Comparison: Chasing Shadows




My husbands old iPhone became a running joke in our house. For years, he had the iPhone 3G, what we now refer to as "the dinosaur." The thing took 10 seconds to bring up a webpage (you know, an eternity in Apple world) and he was constantly dropping calls and having texting issues. Due to several "mishaps" (I won't bore you with tales of my negligence here), I was able to upgrade to an iPhone 4 when it became available this past summer, but he continued to hold onto the dinosaur because "it worked well enough." (He has the patience of a saint, this man). So of course, I was all about my new iPhone 4- it was fast, it was bright, it was smart, it took fabulous pictures. But above all of that, it was the new phone. In my shallow pea-brain, I decided I was hip, so, like any loving wife would do, I shamelessly flaunted it in front of him. Look how fast it is, see how new it is? Isn't it awesome? Then, not even 4 months later, there was talk of an even newer iPhone and rumor had it this one would actually talk back to you. Wait, what? Talk about a buzz kill.

A month after that, a package addressed to my husband arrived on our front step and inside was a brand-spankin' new iPhone 4S. Suddenly, my phone didn't seem like all that. It wasn't the latest and greatest anymore. Checking the weather on my phone wasn't nearly as awesome as asking SIRI herself, not to mention the fact that my husband is now enjoying being the one to do the flaunting.

But this is exactly what good, strategic marketing does. It always stays one step ahead, luring you forward, telling you in small yet significant ways that you shouldn't be satisfied with what you already have, that you're not complete until you have XY and Z. The cryptic message brought to us by mass media eventually permeates to the core of who we are, until we are looking for approval and validation around every corner.

Do I look like I belong?

Am I wearing the right brands?

What if I mess up?

Am I good enough??



I do it without even realizing I'm doing it. I'll catch myself eyeing another woman, (especially another mom), another house, another blog- and before I know it, I've decided that I don't have it together like everyone else does. I need more, and I need better. My house needs more furniture and that room really needs a new rug. My writing could be better. My blog design could be more eye-catching. I don't have all organic products in my shopping cart. Why are her children sitting quietly in their stroller and mine are melting down? I should be cooking homemade dinners ever night. I wish I had her high cheekbones. On and on it goes until my head is spinning. A friend of mine sweetly commented the other day how calm and collected I seemed for having two young kids and that mommyhood "looked good on me." I'll admit that for a second, I felt validated. I had made the cut. But really, I felt something in between humbled and flabbergasted. I knew I couldn't let her think the same things about me that I probably project onto every other mom that I see. And while I would hope that there is at least a shred of truth to what she said- that part of my life's fulfillment here on this earth all along was to be Ella and Milo's mommy- I also know what many people didn't see. That I was barely keeping my head above water not more than a month ago and that it took me nearly seven months to admit that I was dealing with PPD.

I'm not alone in that struggle. According to a recent USA Today report, there's been a 400% increase in anti-depressant use since the 1980's and women are 2.5 times more likely to take them than men. In essence, 1 out of every 4 women is medicated. It's just a hunch, but I'd be willing to bet that the majority of those are moms, especially those of young children.

There is no denying that parenthood is the toughest job out there. The neurological responses to hormones and sleep deprivation alone can certainly create the perfect recipe for depression and anxiety. But is there more to it than chemicals? What about those self-imposed, unrealistic expectations we suddenly find ourselves buried beneath? What about the isolation? What about those false assumptions that everyone else is doing life better than we are? As women, are we essentially chasing shadows of something that doesn't even exist? One that's always two steps ahead of us, ever elusive, never quite within our reach? At the end of our pursuit, we turn the corner only to find that whatever (or whoever) it was that we were chasing wasn't nearly as big or as great as they had first appeared to be.

I've turned that corner more times than I can count. I'm a living, breathing example of a type A perfectionist. My best is often never good enough. For years, I thought this was one of my greatest attributes. In the right conditions, it's worked in my favor, but more often than not, it's led to numerous downfalls. That's the thing about chasing shadows- you can never catch them. Really, the best thing you can hope for is to catch a glimpse of whatever it is that's casting the shadow and realize that your perception of it and the reality of it are usually two entirely different things.

4 comments:

  1. Girl you nailed it. We are never good enough until we just admit it will never happen. But eventually when we do that insecurity always finds ways to creep back in. ALWAYS!

    When people say those sorts of baffling comments I giggle, smile and say "Or I am just a good actor."

    It is the truth isn't it? I love this post and I love your writing!

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  2. If you could only see yourself as I and others do...a wonderful mother, with a beautiful and welcoming home, talented and beautiful both outside and outside. But I have suffered insecurities all my life so I do understand your feelings. You are right, your perception and reality are miles apart. And your writing is amazing in insight into motherhood, in expression, and composition....amazing! I have thought more than once you are better than anything I have read on motherhood.

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  3. I meant to type "beautiful both outside and inside"!

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  4. @Shannon- I'm gonna remember that response- love it!! :) And I think you're absolutely right- so often we refuse to admit that there isn't an "ending point" and so the cycle just continues.

    @Cindy- thank you so much. :) It's true that we're our own worst critics. We're usually quick to encourage other people but then not extend the same grace to ourselves. Thank you for YOUR encouragement to me. :)

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