I am human. I am imperfect. I make mistakes. I sometimes need help. The authenticity necessary to acknowledge these truths is my only super power.
-Me
We’re all fascinated by superheroes. I mean… heroes unto themselves are pretty darn special. They go above and beyond what the world would consider reasonable. They run into burning buildings, fight in wars, keep our cities safe and engage in a plethora of other good deeds. In other words, heroes are dope. They make you want to be a better person for the good of those you like and love. And they do exist. Like— in real life.
Superheroes though? Yeah… no. They come from other planets. They get bitten by spiders and shoot webs from a part of their bodies where most people just have carpal tunnel. Superheroes turn green, get 100 times larger and burst out of their clothes when they get mad, but still wake up fully clothed after they’ve calmed down. Funny, that never happens to me. Wanna know why? Because I’m not a superhero. And neither are you… neither are you.
This isn’t the land of make believe and you don’t have the ability to see through walls or leap over buildings in a single bound no matter what your children, spouse, or other people in your life think. I know. I know. The idea of being able to do anything at any time sounds fascinating and productive. Other people believing you can do anything at any time regardless of circumstances makes you feel important and needed. Look at how proud they are of me doing everything under the sun. Look at your chest all puffed up with the “S” stamp. You can’t get enough of the accolades. You feel amped. You feel invincible. Thing is…. You’re not. You are not invincible.
You cannot do anything at any time regardless of circumstance. You know who can? God. You, my friend, are not God. I can tell you who you will be if you keep this charade up though. Resentful. Yep. Resentful. And who wants to wear resentment as a badge of honor? There was a time when I tried to be Superwoman. I ate it up. I bathed in it. I was a superhero to my husband and my children. When he would say, “You are my Superwoman.” I would just melt. I heard him saying… I value you. You are magnificent. What I internalized was: I can’t stop. I have to do everything. And I have to feel happy while doing everything. If not; I was failing as a wife and mother. What a crock of shit.
When my husband donned me Superwoman and I grinned and loved it; he was in effect absolving himself of his full duty as my husband and as the father of our children. He was all…. “Look at you doing every-damn-thing and being so great at it. Go ‘head Superwoman.” And at first I was all… “All shucks, Babe. I got it. What else can I do?” And then it got old. Real old. He’s still getting his haircut EVERY week and missing zero social outings? Meanwhile, I was considering shaving my head or growing locs— cuz who has time for hair? Eff this! I started to resent him, his haircuts, his trips to the bathroom alone… EVERYTHING. I was angry at him all the time for doing what I had given him permission to do.
Per usual, you came here for the truth and I’m serving it hot. Open your heart to receive this gift of enlightenment and use it to reflect on the roles you play in your home. You are your own undoing. Miserable as hell. Smiling through it all. Understand that your projection of ideals associated with what you believe motherhood and marriage should be is harming your mental and emotional health. It’s also wreaking havoc in your marriage and you don’t even know why. Why does the sound of him breathing annoy me? What’s taking him so long to get home from work? Why doesn’t he help me? Well… the helping part might be associated with your control issues and the fact that you believe only you can do things right, but I don’t have time to talk to you about that today. Let that sink in though.
So, what to do?? First, talk to yourself. You’re not perfect. Stop pursuing perfection. Chase progress. And listen… I don’t give a damn how easy your mother made it look— she was working harder than a one armed paper hanger. I wish my mother had told me just how hard she was working. I would have liked to appreciate her more as a child. Tell your children when their expectations are unreasonable and HOLD THE LINE. Finally, proclaim it like Karen White did. I’m Not Your Superwoman. Tell him. Your husband needs to here you say, “I’m only human.” Teach your children that momma is good, but she ain’t God. You need rest. You need help. You need affirmation. You need your hair done. And you need to take an unaccompanied dump every now and again. I’m just sayin. Listen… I love y’all. Tell the truth. Reject the Superwoman narrative. Be transparent… especially to the ones who love you best. And above all else #ChooseYou every chance you get.
I’m not here because I’m an expert. I’m here because I have experiences. -Stephanie