If my good friend Cat sits me down and tells me I might want to rethink how I’m handling one of my kids, I can listen to her and pay attention and not feel for one second like I’m being mom-shamed or bullied. But that’s only because I know her. I know the purity of her intention. I know that she is on my team. I know her heart and that it is as full of love for me as mine is for her. Trusting relationships take years and a lot of energy to build, and it’s worth investing that time and energy because you’ll end up with a friend whose truth you’re able to hear. Always. And that’s one of the many gifts a true friendship can give: with the right history, even the hardest feedback can land the right way.
It took years of being on the receiving end of criticism from people I didn’t feel safe with for me to figure this out, but it also took becoming a parent. So often we’re told to treat others the way we’d want to be treated. But most of us are so freaking mean to ourselves! Becoming a parent gave me an easy way into this perspective: I try to treat people the way I want people to treat my kids.
I really let it fly in one of my videos and indulged in a rant about what a complicated day I’d had with my kids. I was sure there was another mom out there who needed to hear that her kids aren’t the only ones who misbehave and that her family is normal. That evening, once my kids were tucked in bed and finally asleep, after checking on them seventeen times (because that’s normal, right?), I hopped online to peruse the comments my dear audience had left for me. One woman’s feedback stood out in particular. She wrote, “What is wrong with you and all these other mothers agreeing with you? My children are all grown now and I can tell you that they NEVER behaved in a disrespectful way or broke my rules because I raised them right!” I rolled my eyes and shrugged it off. By that point I had gotten used to at least one stranger each day lecturing me on how unless my children are perfect, I suck as a mom.
Later that same day, I received a private message from another woman, in which she explained that the judgmental woman who hadn’t been willing to get off her high horse and had to brag about her perfect children on my page was . . . this woman’s mother. And you’ll never guess what. This woman was a bit of a rebel when she was growing up. And she claimed her siblings weren’t perfect every second of the day either. But their mom either didn’t notice or was in denial—in deeply, because the most important thing in their family was having perfect children who would reflect perfectly on her. As adults, this woman and her siblings weren’t as close to their mother as they wanted to be. But none of them was keen to confront her about their flaws—or her own.
That judgmental, snarky comment under my video clearly came from that woman’s own insecurities, her own pain. Those who judge and shame others (and disguise it as “I have a right to share my opinion”) are often the most insecure and miserable people. Think about it. Have you ever met a super judgmental person who was actually genuinely happy and fulfilled? Nope. Insecurities and dissatisfaction with one’s own life lead to judgment; judgment leads to unkindness; and unkindness leads to even more insecurities. And so it goes, round and round, only adding hurt to everyone involved. It’s important to note that most judgmental mom shamers don’t actually see themselves as judgmental mom shamers. They just like to share their opinions. Out loud. So here’s a really easy, single-question quiz to figure out if you’re an ass or not: Does every opinion you have need to be voiced? If your answer is yes, you’re an ass.
I’ve been asked over the years how I handle my haters. The answer is: I don’t handle them. Because they’re not mine to handle. When someone is judging you, it’s unlikely that their judgment is actually about you. As I see it, we’re all carrying around a bunch of suitcases. We have our insecurities suitcase. We have our stress suitcase. We have our guilt and our worries suitcases. Some suitcases we might have been carrying since our childhood, stories we were told about who we are that aren’t even true. They’re fiction that we were handed, picked up, believed, and still carry. Sometimes a person comes along with one of their suitcases, with their issues all packed up and ready to go, and they try to hand it to us. Do not pick up that suitcase! Do not pick it up! Because if you pick up their suitcase, you will be up all night, worrying if what they said about you is true, stressing yourself out, questioning yourself, getting bitter, and feeding your insecurities. Over a suitcase that never even belonged to you in the first place.
So if people keep trying to hand off their suitcases to you like you’re a bellhop, you might need to break up with them the same way you would break off an unhealthy relationship with an emotionally abusive boyfriend. And as you go through life, trying to figure out how to ferry around those suitcases that do belong to you (and we all have our own stuff . . . the stuffiest of stuffs!), don’t try to hand those off to someone else as a way to try to get rid of your pain. Instead, sit down with a friend or a great therapist and have a big, nonjudgmental “let’s unpack these suitcases together” session.
As for those people in your life with whom you don’t have the option of breaking up, but who insist on throwing unsolicited suggestions your way, just find a stock answer and then make it your auto reply: “That’s interesting. I’ll give that some thought.” Only it’s not, and you won’t. You’re making them feel heard and dodging a back-and-forth discussion that will only leave you feeling judged or pissed off. Life is hard. You are never going to please everyone with your choices, so put your kids’ needs and your own sanity before other people’s opinions. Stop taking on other people’s expectations. They’re suffocating. Those expectations are like a straitjacket and they will drive you insane.
We have a choice, daily, as we’re interacting with people, to add good or to add hurt. And isn’t there enough hurt in the world? I mean, seriously, there is so much pain in the world already. On any given day, you can check your social media and see a story of another suicide or another child being abused in some unimaginable way or innocent people being mistreated or killed, halfway across the world or in your own town. Personal pain is not a game of dodgeball, though. You can’t take your ball of pain, chuck it at someone else, and then be free of it. Being a crappy human will only increase your pain, not heal it.
Parenting is so freaking hard! It’s harder than anyone warned us it would be. So when our fellow parents—human beings like us who are raising children, who have kids looking up to them—choose to put hurt into the world by making horrible, mean comments whether in person or by hiding behind their screens on social media, the cut feels especially deep. So much of how we exercise our insecurities and fears comes down to competing and comparing, and no parent should ever feel like raising children is a competition. If you like to compete, great! Join a soccer team! Pick up tennis. Friendship and parenting are not competitive sports. (By the way, here’s a big, fat secret I discovered to finding more joy in motherhood: stop comparing and competing. That’s it. Seriously. Try it.)
The shaming I see and hear about every single day (not exaggerating . . . thanks, internet) has made me extra grateful for my mother-in-law and her nonjudgmental approach to our relationship and relationships in general. Years after that frank conversation we had when we met for the first time, we were sitting at a happy hour, sipping our cocktails and eating our favorite meal: bread with a side of bread. Judy told me a story about an evening out with a bunch of ladies her age. One of them mentioned that her son was dating a girl and that it was getting very serious. All the ladies chimed in, asking, “Well, what do you think? Do you like the girl? Do you like her?!?” My mother-in-law quickly spoke up and asked, “More importantly, does she like you?!” Everyone immediately shut up. Apparently, no one had thought of it that way before.