In the fourth grade, I was so excited that I aced a math test. More specifically, it was an A-, but still, it was the fact that I studied and worked so hard to do well on this exam. Moreover, math is not my favorite subject. We had to take out tests home, have our parents sign them, and return them the next day. I remember anxiously awaiting to show my dad when he got home from work. I handed him my test with pride written all over my body. He took one look at it and said, “That is not good enough.” He hastily signed it and gave it back to me without another look. I wondered, will I ever be good enough?
My family never played board games together, cards, or any family bonding activity. My parents excelled at one game and one game only: the comparison game.
It’s a game that I could never win, and believe me, I tried.
They would constantly compare me to my siblings, my cousins, their friends’ children.
I realized that maybe that was their tactic to motivate me to do better, dare I say, be better? They don’t mean harm, but it did harm. I spent the rest of my life trying to please them and others just to get praise. It was my high I’ve been chasing. I lived for that moment to feel like I meant something. Like I was worth having.
But it wasn’t enough. As I got older, I became more defiant. I just wanted to be seen as something more than a trophy to be paraded around. It only caused my parents to scare me into obedience. The threats only made me weaker.
In college, I struggled to make the transition. Instead of comforting me, my parents told me that my aunts and uncles wouldn’t welcome me if I dropped out of school.
When I got engaged, my mom told me she could NOT be proud of me because it was too soon after my cousin got engaged.
When I struggled through breastfeeding and new motherhood, my mom took my baby out of my arms because crying would upset the baby.
Will I ever be good enough?
The question will always remain unanswered. If I learned anything from how my parents raised me, it’s to do the opposite of what they did.
I will listen to my children. I will comfort them when they feel defeated. I will praise them through everything. I will catch them when they fall and hold them through the pain. I will help them stand back up and support them through life’s hard punches. I will always be proud of them being my children. I will be their number one cheerleader. I will never wish they weren’t my children. And I will be there for my daughters when they become mothers.
They will always know they are enough. They are imperfectly perfect, and that’s good enough for me.
