Stronger From the Struggle

By Marilyn Williams

What do you do well, Marilyn?” I couldn’t think of a thing, but it certainly was not motherhood.I was young…too young. Married at eighteen and a mother at nineteen was a challenge enough, but coming out of a severely dysfunctional and abusive home made mothering a foreign language to me. How could I ever mother my children when my childhood was filled with painful memories of physical abuse, emotional abuse, and sexual abuse? Young, wounded emotionally, and becoming a new mother was a disastrous recipe.Despite the ingredients life handed me, I had started off pretty well. Unlike my parents, my husband and I did not marry merely because we were trapped into marriage by an unexpected pregnancy. Mike and I loved each other very much and were thrilled to be married. Given my circumstances, marrying young was not my bigger challenge; mothering young was my mountain. As a new mother with a beautiful baby girl, I was surprisingly able to bond with my daughter as an infant. It wasn’t until my perfect little angel turned about eighteen months old that I began climbing the base of my mountain. No longer did she walk and talk as I wanted her to; she had a mind of her own. I had thought I could continue my schooling as a young mother with ease. Fantasies of little babies and toddlers sitting next to me quietly as I did my homework quickly dissolved into the reality of my strong-willed and free-spirited daughter. I am not sure what God was thinking by giving me such a child. Personally, I’m sure I would have done better with a child with at least an ounce of a desire to please. My daughter not only lacked any desire to please or impress me, she had the innate ability to rock my world as if an earthquake had hit my very core. We were polar opposites (and still are), and I soon discovered my daughter’s mere presence triggered the painful memories of my childhood that I had tried so hard to bury over the years. Through achievement and performance, I had run as far from the reality of my life as possible; but now, my non-conforming and free-spirited daughter was trespassing on my heart. I liked my physical space; I needed my physical space. My daughter, on the other hand, couldn’t get close enough or touch me often enough. In my attempt to deny and confront my painful feelings, I became very studious, always thinking but rarely feeling. I kept myself distracted from my inner shame by staying focused on task after task. My daughter just wanted to sit and cuddle. I always kept a rigid schedule for myself, while my daughter would not even take a nap at the same time every day. In trying to appease my raging parents, I had kept a neat and tidy room since I was a child. Conversely, my daughter’s habits earned her the nickname, “Messy Jessy.” I honestly do not know what God was thinking in matching up the two of us.The fog in our relationship thickened as she grew, and I soon found myself facing a smoldering volcano within my own heart. I knew that if I did not get some help for myself, I would begin to pass onto her what was done to me. It was all I could do to get through a day and not lose total control with her, especially during the potty training years. I was ashamed and afraid someone would find out just what a horrible mother I was, and just how messed up I was inside. My façade was in danger of being exposed and I knew the time had come to get some help. I confided in my Pastor that I was losing my temper with my daughter, and he referred me to a counselor. I will never forget my first session. “So this shouldn’t take but a couple of sessions, right?” I asked. “I just want you to teach me how to be a good mom.” I was tackling my emotional issues as I did the rest of life—clinically and as a good student would. I literally had no idea that my frustrations with my daughter had anything to do with me. I simply concluded I had a strong-willed child and I needed to learn some skills to manage her. Seven years later, I look back on that first day of counseling with an embarrassed grin. To think I had no idea there was anything in me that needed to be addressed and dealt with is humorous now. But after working long and hard on my own issues, I have come to the bittersweet conclusion that God knew exactly what he was doing. I had thought he had made a mistake, but he had brought a catalyst into my life. My daughter is and always will be the opposite of me, challenging me to climb the mountain higher than I ever would have without her. Her heartwarming and free spirit continues to free mine; and her constant need for affection has broken through the icy paths to my heart, breaking the ground for a springtime of love and tenderness I never dreamed of. I can honestly look back upon our tumultuous relationship with gratitude and joy. The fun she brings into my serious and scheduled days have brought meaning into my drive for purpose and significance. She is not perfect and neither is our relationship, but I have acquired a new appreciation for her differences and challenging personality. Different doesn’t have to be bad; in fact, it can be wonderful. As I have made my way up the mountain of motherhood, I can look back and see the struggle all the way through her childhood. But now at her age of twenty-two, I can also see the view from the summit. In all those long years of never feeling like I could get it right, I saw the bigger picture. All those rocky paths and crevices which seemed so big and overwhelming at the time have become small and insignificant. I could not be the perfect mother, nor would she ever be the perfect child. But one thing has become clear: we absolutely love each other. For me, it happened when I finally realized this little gift from God was my opportunity to become not just a better mother, but a better person as well. For her, she says the fog lifted in our relationship when she realized my issues were about me, not about her. Together, although a difficult start and a tumultuous journey, we have made it to the top of the mountain. We have not only learned to respect each other for one another’s differences, but we have also learned to value each other’s differences in our lives as vessels of self-improvement. In the beginning of my mothering journey, I was challenged with the size and measure of such a mountain. In the process of my mothering journey, I was plagued with fears of not being the perfect mom and not having the perfect daughter. Now, after raising a strong-willed child for the past twenty-two years and climbing the mountain of facing myself while raising my daughter, I can honestly say I am stronger from the struggle…and so is she.

A Mother who did what she could...and that's a beautiful thing!

“She did what she could”… five simple, yet profound words. As a young mom, I always compared myself to other moms—only to feel lacking. It did not seem to matter how hard I tried to be the best mom I could be, or how much I tried to be like every other mom, I always felt a deep and discouraging sense of failure. I tried everything—cloth diapers, nursing, homemade baby food, consistent walks everyday, “Mommy and Me” infant swim lessons, “Mommy and Me” community classes, preschool, home school, traditional school, homemade dinners and desserts, stay-at-home mom, working mom—nothing seemed to make a difference. The only thing I felt I did consistently well was disappoint my two children. I feared I could never be the mommy they needed. My daughter was sensitive and strong-willed. What kind of combination is that? I did not have a clue how to reach her fragile and obstinate heart. My son was active, very active. I could hardly keep up with him; and when I did, he was able to wear my most unyielding discipline down to nothing. It seemed he could get away with everything, no matter how strong I determined myself to be. I feared he would turn out to be a lifetime criminal! I read every book on the market for parenting, attended seminars and tried to apply everything I learned. I gave them my all, but was that enough?
Feeling defeated in my mothering skills before I even started the day, I read a verse from the Bible one morning that caught my eye, “Why are you berating her…She has done a beautiful thing for me…She did what she could.” (Mark 14:6-8). These five simple words jumped off the page and into my heart like water for my dehydrated self-esteem. Could it be possible that my all really is enough? I was giving my children all I had to give, but feared I would still disappoint. Is there such thing as a mom who doesn’t disappoint? I pondered these thoughts and suddenly realized, “If my all was enough for the God of the universe, it should certainly be enough for me. It will probably not be enough for my children, but I was not the answer to their every fulfillment. I could only give them what I had to give; the rest was out of my hands.
It was as if someone gave me a shot of vitamin B and I was ready to keep climbing the mountain in front of me. Absorbing these verses into my mind, I decided to adopt them as my own motto for life: “She did what she could, and that’s a beautiful thing!” Instead of another opportunity to fail my children, I began to see the day as an opportunity to do my best and give my best. I stopped trying to be someone I am not, and began to embrace who I am. The freedom in these five little words resonated though my entire body and into my daily life. I said “No” to things I could not do, freeing myself up to do the things I could. My focus in parenting shifted from trying to meet every need of my children, to just giving them the best of me. I could not be all they needed; God would have to take care of that. Surprisingly, by giving myself permission to operate in my strengths instead of dwelling on my weaknesses, I began to be the mother they needed me to be. I guess God knew what He was doing after all!
Over the years, I have read many parenting books and have concluded that the best books are not formulas, but books that encourage you to be the mom you were created to be. Being the mom you were created to be is not selfish or insensitive to your children’s needs. On the contrary, as you give yourself permission to be yourself, you will discover your understanding, as well as your ability to reach your children, increases. Parenting is not all about our children; it is also about our parenting. While it is easier to focus on our children’s needs rather than our own personal growth, it often leads to repressed emotion and resentment. By denying myself the freedom to be myself and trying to measure up to my children’s expectations, my frustrations and feelings of failure were leaking into all areas of my life. I was short-tempered, low on energy, and always looking to them for my daily grasp of self esteem. As my children grew to be teenagers and now young adults, I realized their resentment toward my smothering them in replacement for growing myself.
So I took those five simple, yet profound words to heart and began to put a little more focus on me, instead of continually hovering over my children. I began to change my parenting approach from nagging and begging, to role modeling. I was pleasantly surprised as my young adults found a new respect for the value of advanced education as they witnessed their mother gaining a better job and pay because of my devotion to finish my college degree. Originally, I thought pursuing an education would be too difficult because all of my attention and energy was focused on the children. I was right about that! But I finally enrolled in the “Mommy Track,” one class at a time, giving myself permission to keep growing as a person while still mothering my children. I was still attentive to my children’s homework and needs, but they were watching Mommy role-model her words. As I dared to be the mother and person I was created to be, I witnessed my children gaining permission to be themselves as well. Soon, our family transformed into its own unique and original design.
There is beauty in freedom, and freedom is formed by a grace to be yourself, to live the life you believe in, and to love others the best way you can. Five simple words have completely changed my life; I have become the “She Did What She Could” woman in my personal and professional life. As a writer and speaker, I experience this message liberating women around the world out of shame and into freedom to be themselves and do what they can do. It is especially freeing for parents who are in the midst of the biggest mountain they will ever climb, where most of the elements are completely out of their control. I have shared these five simple words in articles, books, and presentations; always delivering freedom from perfectionism and the devaluing of our everyday, ordinary activities. When women realize the power in doing what they can, they will find themselves doing more than they ever could! Standing at the summit of parenting, now as a grandmother, I back on my winding path and realize I did what I could. I’m not perfect, but nothing is wasted. Every mistake I made as a mother and every area I fell short in has been a part of growing into the best wife, mother, friend, and human being I can possibly be; and in the end, that truly is good enough. In our fast-paced and high production society, we rarely feel as if anything is ever enough, but my girlfriends and I have adopted a new life motto: “She Did What She Could,” and don’t forget, that’s a beautiful thing!

Welcome to the "She Did What She Could Woman"

Are you overwhelmed with life's choices and demands? As women today we are bombarded with opportunities as well as challenges to do more than women have ever imagined they could. But how much is enough; more importantly, how much is too much? As women, we want to live our lives well, but we fear we don't enough or we just want to do one thing well. I have chosen Jesus' words, "She Did What She Could" as my life motto. From perfectionism to peace, I am now a "She Did What She Could Woman!" These are five simple, yet profound words which have changed my life. I pray it will do the same for you!