Fake Lives, Staged Selfies!

No, I am not endorsing an antidepressant. However, if you need one, do not be ashamed! I carried that embarrassment like a stone around my neck for too long. What I am talking about is fake lives and staged selfies.

Yes, I am going to bag on the Pinterest moms. To start with, they have the best-dressed kids; their houses are immaculately clean, and the bake sale is almost exclusively their homemade goods. I am the mom who came, hair in a messy bun, squealing to a stop with a pack of muffins from Safeway. Why am I such a loser?

Facebook and Instagram are full of moms posting pictures of themselves and their kids smiling, appearing to not have a care in the world. Just happy. How can I be such a failure? My family has other emotions, like fear, frustration, sadness and yes, anger. My house is not always tidy. I have things to do, kids to pick up from school, practices to get to on time. So, am I a failure?

Love your failures.

The images these portrayed by some, which look like they always have everything together, are inaccurate. I judged myself harshly against these. There is no Beaver Cleaver family. I am doing my best and sometimes I do not get it right. I have to embrace my newfound philosophy that failure is excellent. In short, failure is the only causation in life, familiar to every human, that gives real growth.

Indeed, I recognize and feel humiliated when I have not performed a satisfactory job. – Moreover, I am sensitive when my children misbehave or fall short because I care about their future well-being. Well, I did before my depression crippled me, and again now that I am healing my broken brain. I have amends to make to them for being an absent parent while I slept my pain away. This time, however, I am not fooled that I have to be perfect or that anyone has “the perfect” life. You know, the Rexulti face image I must look like to be considered a success.

And so, I am reminded of a Facebook post.

I will paraphrase “Perfect day at the Pool.” An unknown writer, to whom I wish I could give credit, notes being waterside when a well-dressed woman and her child enter the swimming area. The mother put down a blanket, water toys, and lotion. They are laid neatly across the space, staged, if you will. She then takes selfies of her and her daughter. Next, mom takes the little girl to the pool steps, takes a few more selfies, and returns to the blanket. She uploads the pictures, adds text, and immediately makes a phone call.

As the child plays in the water, the writer hears this girl repeatedly ask her mom to come to play. Mom ignored her. On completion of the phone call, the woman neatly packs up the pool toys they never used. She folds the blanket, retrieves the child from the pool, and leaves. They were there for 10 minutes.

Perfection is a myth.

This writer notes, and I will highlight it too. So many moms at home, hair up, looking at that “perfect” post, feel horrible and inadequate. Yes, we are worn out, life is messy, and being a parent is chaotic. Sometimes, I feel torn in five directions, but I will say those of us trying hard to pay attention to our children, balancing assisting with homework, cooking dinner, getting the dogs fed, and not burning down the house are the ones that have perfect lives!

Appropriately, we have exhausting but REAL lives! With this intention, I was mindfully present and didn’t miss a second of play during my son’s football season. During the last game, my son sacked the other team’s quarterback, causing the fumble, which he then recovered… UH YEAH, THAT’S MY KID, and after cheering so loudly, I caught a glimpse of his face, and he knew I was proud. Well, everyone else knew it too!

Painfully (tush wise), I sat through the three-hour choir concert to hear my daughter sing four songs. My girl, who doesn’t exactly “fit in,” looked so scared she could cry. I wanted to be there and nowhere else, watching her with stage fright and feeling that fear but doing it anyway. It is an honor to be her mom. 

I have to fall on my sword; I was, at best insincere.

Over the last eight years, I had to pretend and maintain an expected image of a Proverbs 31 woman and a Sergeants Wife. I tried, and I failed. I was an embarrassment to my husband because I had become clinically depressed. Desolately, my husband left me and moved in with another woman. To anyone from the outside, my life has been an absolute wreck. But I say failure is excellent. He did me a favor. I have attempted many things that have not worked out. FAIL. I have loved people that were not capable of loving me back. FAIL. I had painful depression that knocked me to my knees for almost four years. FAIL. Marriages. FAIL, FAIL, FAIL!

SO, WHAT!

So maybe the things I wanted didn’t fall on my doorstep or work out as planned. But, I am starting to realize that after a FAIL, I am more aware and closer to the real me and not the girl with the REXULTI face on! To care a little less about the perfect-looking family and more about finding the true me and making perfect memories is JOY.

The world told me I needed to be someone else to fit in, have friends, and get the best-paying job. I think NOT. Failure is excellent, and I embrace that it is not easy when problems arise, but my true happiness comes from the fact I am still here. Some days getting up and trying again is a struggle, but I am learning, and those days are getting fewer and further between. Saying I am grateful for the experiences now is an understatement. I do not want a fake life or staged selfies.

These Authors seem to agree. I want to know what you think. Leave me a message.