Acceptance Is As Much A Part Of Growth As Change

What do you wish I did differently as a parent?

This was the question I asked my eldest daughter last week.

Her answer? That I was more calm.

Which was the point at which I wished I hadn’t asked.

Because calm is my achiles heel. And the version of which I aspire to the most somehow continues to allude me.

I’m 1000% calmer than I ever have been (or so my partner reassures me) but clearly that’s not enough when it comes to parenting.

(Or maybe the hangover from when I first became a mama has tainted any progress I’ve made?)

Either way, according to the eldest (and probably most ‘damaged’), I need to be even more calm in order to meet my children’s needs.

The question is: is this possible? And secondly, is this reasonable?

Firstly, I’m sure it is possible. But not right now.

In that, healing has its own timeline.

And whilst I can be as aware as I possibly can of where I am falling short of being the mama that I want to be, and spending time on working through the potential root causes of these limitations, I can only be at the stage of evolution I’m at.

Just as, 13 years ago, when I first became a parent, I could only work on the limitations that I was aware of at that time.

Do I wish I knew back then what I know now?

Of course.

If so, my children would have experienced a very different environment to the one we enjoy today.

But you can’t be who you are not. And you can’t undo what you did.

So I can only hope to continue to ‘mellow’ as I mature - consciously - into my parenting role.

But I can’t force that pace because I can’t see the bigger picture of where I’m heading.

I’m also not sure that being calmer is a reasonable expectation to have of myself.

(Even though it’s a reasonable request).

Which is one of the things I love about my kids.

They have enjoyed (albeit often challenging) formative years in which they know that they can speak their truth and that they can ask for their needs to be met, however painful that truth might be for us to hear.

(This is something I never experienced, even remotely).

But that doesn’t mean that I have to take every (sometimes constructive but not always) criticism I am told fully on board, as something that I have to change.

Because some things are just innate: I’m a fiery, passionate, intense being who wears her heart on her sleeve.

And that heart is sometimes so overwhelmed by its capacity to feel that the emotions pass through it so fast that there is no time for my brain to filter out its rawness.

That’s what happens afterwards. And I put in the repair.

But whilst I’m happy to apologise for the delivery, I’m not always willing to apologise for the content.

That’s just who I am.

And it doesn’t always look ‘calm’.

(I know this from having spent 37 years trying to change this).

So, the moral of this story is: I’m not going to stop asking my kids the questions - honest feedback is necessary for conscious growth.

But I’m not always going to end up doing things differently.

Because whilst I can do my best to act on the answers I receive, the delivery of the result is not always related to how much effort I put in, nor does it follow the timeline that I (or they) might wish for.

I don’t need to struggle to be calmer. Aspiring to a future version of myself that is better.

Instead, I can practise being in the present and ok with who I am right now.

In summary, self-acceptance is as much a part of growth - and equally valid - as commitment to change!