Once upon a time, I had a blog. Actually, I had two of them; one for my family and the other for myself. I used the one blog to keep my family updated with of course, my family. The other - this HONEY POT, I used for myself. I used it to express my feelings and thoughts. Now is as good of time as any to come back to this blog.
Blogging... the genesis of the "influencer". Also known as the generator of lifestyle porn. Then... Like My Space, "Blogging" became a thing of the past.
Since no one comes to read these things anymore, I guess the internet is the safest place to bear your soul. Or at least get paid for faking the ideal lifestyle.
"No Success can compensate for failure in the home"
I grew up in the world, where a women's only value was and still is their ability to bear children. Along with the bearing and rearing of children, you must keep the ideal, pristine and perfect home. As a woman, your value is also based upon your ability to sew, cook, clean and sacrifice yourself in the pursuit of creating a "Heavenly Home." And those kids that you bear, are supposed to be perfect. To define that perfection: it is a flawlessly put together photo worthy child(ren); no mess, flawless hair and clothing, sitting statue still obediently. (Think... Instagram worthy photos, or Pintrest Pictures but in real life - all of the F***ing time).
That picture perfect child portrays a standard to all mothers, telling us that this is what/how your child should look, act, think and do. And if your child cannot meet that standards then you are a failure. And to complete this picture, you must maintain a that slim figure, meet the current beauty standards of the world and serve your husband sexually (with the knowledge that you are meant to deny your own sexual needs/identity).
When the quote, "No Success can compensate for failure in the home" is uttered, it isn't speaking necessarily to fathers or husbands. That quote is always directed towards women. It is a warning to not work outside your home. It is warning that to pursue your potential is wrong. It is a statement that places the future of your family entirely upon your shoulders. You're autonomy and identity is not longer yours- it belongs to your husband and children. Sure, you can pursue an education.... until your husband comes along. Then it is your job to make sure his education comes first but once your first child is born, you no longer are meant for anything other than your husband and children.
I still live in that world. Except... I am not the mother who stayed home. The choice to do so was never given to me. I have children who have those picture perfect moments but realistically are their own person; messy, disobedient and individuals learning to be good humans. I am not the same weight I was when I got married 20 years ago; my figure is more round than slim. I didn't meet the beauty standards of my high school years, I am most certainly am not going to be able to meet them in my adult years. This doesn't mean I didn't stay active or have a healthy lifestyle, it simply means I am not the girl called Lucky who fit into her size 0 jeans, 2 weeks after giving birth...every time.
I experience the mixed message of: embrace who you are but you have to do it within the confines of these expectations. Strangely enough, I can see the fallacy of the make believe world of perfection. I can see the lies being told. So why do I feel and see only failure?
"My Angel Mother"
All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother. -Abraham Lincoln
As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, in April and October of each year we have the opportunity to hear from the leaders of our church. Without failure, someone give a talk and includes their standard of Motherhood. This story includes mother getting up one to two hours before everyone so they can read their scriptures, dress and prepare for the day (hair and makeup included), make breakfast and lunch for all of their children (husbands included), have family time (scripture study and prayer) in the morning before everyone leaves for school and work. They are the PTA president, the chair of something to some community group, serve the widows down the street and makes sure that dinner (made from scratch) was on the table in time for father to arrive home. She also has the ability to sew, cook, bake, craft and keep a spotless home all to the standard of perfection.
For those women who could and do do that - I commend you. There is honor your identity.
For the rest of us; there is still honor in your identity.
The problem of stories like these create a questioning of our own selves. I am not the "Angel Mother" I was expected to turn into. Because of this I have those dark days that I question on whether or not I should have had children or even gotten married. I obviously did not meet the standards set forth by my family, culture and religion. So once again, I feel and see only failure.
The Reality of Who I am
I know the pain of not being able to get out of bed. I know the reality and guilt of letting my kids make their own lunch in elementary school and failing to make dinner seven nights in a row. I couldn't be the room Mom because I worked and when I volunteered to help in other ways, I was rejected. I finally gave up on scripture time and family prayer with my family in order to keep the peace with my children. I attend church without my children every Sunday.
I am not the "Angel Mother" I was expected to turn into.
I suffer from depression, anxiety and PTSD. I take medication and see a psychiatrist and therapist for these conditions. I am an overachieving people pleaser. I have Fibromyalgia and recently had to have my spine fused do to arthritis, stenosis and compression. Due to other health issues, I have had 8 surgeries in the last 21 years. Yet, the voice of my culture tells me that my health is no excuse.
My house has clutter and piles of clean and dirty laundry. I have the inevitable pile of clothes that need to be hung up in my closet but no exercise bike to pile them on. My bed does get made every day. The dishes get done and the trash taken out daily but my house hasn't been dusted or vacuumed since last week. I still hear the echoes of my Sunday School teachers... "Is your home clean enough for Jesus to visit?" with the expectation that the physical cleanliness trumps the spiritual cleanliness.
I have a potty mouth and my kids are no longer surprised to hear mom drop the occasionally F-bomb. I love a good cup of coffee and drink way too much diet coke. I travel without my husband and kids at least twice a year. I have a Master's Degree and full time job. I read 40-ish books year. I love to cook, bake and create.
I am a part of the Gen X generation. Technically, I am what you call a "cusper"; given my year of birth and being at the end of one generation and the beginning of another, I can identify with two generations. I belong to the generation that was expected to follow the path set by the Baby Boomers. Yet, I fight like a Millennial who demands the equality that our mothers were once and are still denied.
Falling into this generational crevice, means that I don't belong. I am too old to be young and too young to be old. I have never found that groove where I fit in.
How do I, how do you, how do we find balance? That balance of knowing we don't have to be perfect but to keep striving for the best. How do we once again find our autonomy and reclaim our own power over our own bodies? How do we accept failure as something worthy? How do we see past the lies and embrace the truth?
More importantly.... to those once upon a time bloggers turned influencer...is what you are showing the world real? Because the picture perfect life portrayed in sermons and through social media does not lift up other women. It is perpetuating the ideals that are keeping women in the cycle of an emotional poverty.
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