Sunday was Mother’s Day. I have never felt worthy of
the praise on Mother’s Day. It was always such a depressing day. I hated how I
mothered. I hated how negative and ugly I was with my kids. But this Mother’s Day
was different. I felt proud and in awe of the self control I had exercised if
only for five days. But that five consecutive days was a feat that had never
before been accomplished. And it was all because I pretended not to be their
mother.
I want to scream my secret of success from the rooftops. I
want to give every mother the opportunity to turn her family around, to love
herself and to have hope. Hope in the future, that in the journey of motherhood
no one has to die. Relief to know that she isn’t the only one who hates her
kids and herself on occasion.
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