I Am a Mother, and Although Not Perfect, I Know My Priorities

Reviewed and approved by the psychologist Valeria Sabater.

Written by Valeria Sabater

Last update: 22 December, 2021

Society puts labels on us from the moment we arrive in the world: we are daughters, sisters, partners, friends, hardworking, strong, beautiful, brave, and sometimes even vulnerable and not perfect. Being a woman implies having to listen to a variety of labels, but the one that counts the most is the one we use to define ourselves.

“I am a mother.” This is undoubtedly the definition that produces the most pride. However, when we express it we also feel it with a brush of proper humility, and for a very simple reason: we know that we are not perfect.

Motherhood is a process of continuous growth where we never stop learning, where one must take certain errors and correct them, and where we are always receptive to the needs of our children.

We are also women who have learned to love ourselves. We are mothers who have very clear priorities because we have gone through a series of situations, moments and difficulties that we can reflect upon and learn from. All of this gives us an exceptional toolkit, added value that is felt but not seen, only perceived.

With all this we want to make it very simple: beyond what society says about women and the labels they use to place us, there is only one opinion that counts: ours.

You are not perfect, but you are IMPORTANT

Carl Gustav Jung said in his works that all human beings are born with an innate ability to recognize our mothers. What we hope to find with her is not only food, but also protection, affection and care.

Jung defined this natural instinct as part of our collective unconscious, as a learning that we all share as a species. As soon as we are born, we seek this significant figure.

• Now, despite the fact that the existence of this psychic tissue where the classic archetypes of the Swiss psychiatrist and our collective unconscious have not been scientifically demonstrated, neuroscience tells us that babies have the natural ability to be able to recognize their mother and to understand that their survival depends on her.
• It is clear, however, that the father figure is equally as important and essential, but the child’s brain is intimately linked to the mother, so those first experiences, that first impression based on a secure and meaningful attachment, will guarantee without doubt its proper development and emotional stability.

So, you should not hesitate for a moment in your relevance as a mother. You may be fallible in other respects, imperfect in some area of your life. However, for that little creature who has just been born, you are everything. You are his world, his sustenance, his warm skin where he feels safe, and his best refuge.

Imperfect mothers living in real worlds

There is a book as entertaining as its title: “The Imperfect Mother: Sincere Confessions of Mothers Who Live in the Real World” by Therese J Borchard.

In it, we are told anecdotes and situations so complicated, hilarious and desperate with which many moms and dads will be able to identify.

One story is that of the author’s own son, who at only 4 years old pushed another child into the Chesapeake Bay. The other boy, just 5 years old, got soaked. From that day forward, Therese J Borchard went from being the ideal mother to the mother of a “little psychopath.”

They labeled her for a long time until she was able to regain her status as a good mother among the community of concerned parents, unable to comprehend the behavior of a 4 year old. 

The book also tells us about the feeling of guilt we sometimes have at not being able to spend more time with our children, or why we sometimes give in to their blackmail and buy them what they ask us or cook them something unhealthy the night they insistently ask us.

They are everyday realities where we sometimes come to doubt ourselves, in which we view ourselves as bad mothers. In fact, every act, every assignment, every concern and in essence, everything we do, responds exclusively to the infinite and immeasurable love we profess.