How to Squash Mom Guilt and Live Free
As an empty-nester mom who has raised three sons, I can completely relate to this pervasive sense of guilt that afflicts most mothers. Mom-guilt is still a temptation and trap that I grapple with, and my kids are out of the home.
I feel this guilt whenever I think about what I could’ve done differently – the ways I’ve failed my sons in some way—both in the big as well as small. The smaller ones might actually be harder for me to let go of, because I easily question how I could have failed in something so small, obvious and doable.
For you, maybe you experience mom-guilt for not working outside of the home, or for working outside of the home. Maybe you experienced a season of mental or emotional exhaustion and wish you had more energy or resources to help you parent. Maybe you see other moms whipping up healthy meals and you wish you had the time, energy, or funds to do that.
Whatever the reason for mom-guilt, when we hang onto this guilt, it turns into shame and regret, which only leads, in time, to despair.
Ironically, I’ve noticed my husband doesn’t take on the same yoke of guilt that I often do. He recognizes when he’s done something wrong, confesses it to God, apologizes to whichever one of our sons he’s failed, and moves on to do better the next time. It seems easier for him.
My observation has been that most husbands and fathers operate a lot like my husband. I believe it’s how God graciously wired them.
Thankfully, God fully equips and wires women for the task of parenting as well. Although fathers can be excellent nurturers, it seems as if God gives moms a bit more passion and ability to manage this task than dads.
Unfortunately, this can also tempt us moms to view our parenting like a failure of our character and identity. What might simply be different job or meal choices can become labels of not good enough.
What made this harder for me as a younger mom was the belief that I was all alone—the only mom who struggled with mom-guilt. At those low points, I began to feel like king David in the Bible did when he wrote these words,
“When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long.” Psalm 32:3 (NIV)
Eventually, I realized that I needed to confess my feelings of guilt and inadequacy to God, and also confess them to other moms. What I discovered when I did this changed everything.
For one thing, I realized that I wasn’t some oddball mother who constantly failed her kids. Everyone fails their children more than they care to admit. I also realized that I wasn’t the only mom who routinely felt guilty about her choices or failures either.
Sharing my truth with God and others helped me to walk free of guilt alongside every other imperfect mom out there. We didn’t wallow in our guilt, we encouraged each other to see the strengths in our choices and lifestyles, while also choosing to forgive ourselves where we’ve fallen short.
We should pay attention to the healthy guilt and conviction that leads us to confess to our forgiving Savior. We should also decide to reject any shame or disabling guilt which tempts us to believe we are not good enough or perfect enough for our children.
Friend, you are a great mom. You are the perfect mother for your children, and with God’s help and strength, you are equipped for the job. Your unique home and situation is teaching your family how to navigate life, and it is beautiful. Keep seeking God in every moment and He will carry you through.
Wife Step: Reflect on some of the ways you might be clinging to mom-guilt. Confess each one to God and other trusted moms and girlfriends. Embrace your imperfections, knowing there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ (Romans 8:1).
Beth Steffaniak is an author, marriage blogger, life-coach, pastor’s wife, empty nester and proud grandma. She resides with her husband in southern Illinois, where they enjoy leading marriage workshops together, as well as investing in helping people grow closer to Christ, each other and the disconnected. You can find more of her writing at www.messymarriage.com.
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