thoughts on mothering


I have been mothering for most of my adult life, naturally and instinctually. And it is only now that i am older and where outside opinions only matter when i decide that they do, that i can say it’s the part that i like and respect the most about myself.  It has taken some time getting to this place of contentment. Not because i didn’t feel the worthiness of my chosen path or understand the magnitude of just how important my role is, but more, its taken this long to feel secure enough in saying it is absolutely enough for me. There has been pressure over the years, to be more, do more than only be a mother. Whether this derives from outside perceptions or from within, my guess is, it’s most likely a little of both. I have defiantly had my fair share of condescending queries about ‘what it is i do,other than mother. And for a short time, i did question if it truly was enough. Was i able to say i have no regrets of any unfulfilled ideas i had for myself?   Was there something else i needed to do to prove my worthiness and sense of value to the world, and possibly myself before i could say, Mothering is enough. Looking back now, the only times i have held any doubts in my life’s choices, has always been during times of great despondency, when doubt has pervaded all senses. Yet in times when i have remained true to myself, there has been no doubt, no regret, no other idea that could ever be more important than the path i am on.  Now, the dread of such inquiries wouldn’t bother me at all, more rather they would be welcomed. What ever doubts i held in my earlier years of parenting being a sufficient enough path to take, have stayed there.  I undeniably know now that it absolutely is enough. Enough for me.


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