Learning How to Give
A couple of weeks ago, I decided to ask my daughter about the ways I show up as her mom that she appreciates the most. To my surprise, her answers were nothing like I had expected.
When I was pregnant, almost 11 years ago, I had a clear vision of the kind of mom I would be. I imagined myself as the mom who always dropped her kid off and picked her up on time. I would pack spectacular lunches with homemade, nutritious meals and minimal preservatives. I would leave sticky love notes in her lunch bags reminding her to have a great day or reminding her that she was loved. I would be present at every school conference, activity, or performance where parents are invited. I would be that mom.
To this day, I’ve worked hard to live up to that promise I made to myself. My weekday mornings are busy with preparing salads, soups, and hot dishes, along with a plated breakfast that could rival any breakfast café. I’ve attended countless information sessions, parent-teacher conferences, and school plays. Even my husband understands the assignment and steps in when I’m unavailable.
So, when I asked my daughter what she appreciates most about the way I show up as her mom, I expected her to mention the efforts I’ve been so proud of. Instead, she said, “I like it when we go out to the movies, the mall, do art together, or go on a trip.”
I’ll be honest: I was momentarily silent, trying to process what I had just heard. I thought to myself, “Wait, what about the early mornings when I wake up to make sure everything runs smoothly, and you have everything you need for the day? What about all the appointments I show up for, always with a smile, even when life is hard? Does none of that matter to you?” I’m not going to lie, my ego took a little hit, and I even asked her again, rephrasing the question. But she gave me the exact same answer.
Later that evening, I had a “big girl” moment and chose to reflect on it from a different perspective. First, I realized that my daughter gave me an honest answer. She didn’t hesitate or try to say something that would make me feel better; she simply spoke her truth. Isn’t that one of the lessons I’ve been trying to teach her? That honesty is important? That’s a good thing, right?
Second, I understood that while I’m working hard every day, what she values most are the occasional moments of connection. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop cooking breakfast or packing her lunch—those things still matter to me—but I don’t need to hold myself to such impossibly high standards every day. Okay, I guess that feels better too.
Finally, I asked myself why I chose to be the kind of mom I envisioned when I was pregnant. Why did I decide to embody this particular version of motherhood instead of so many other possibilities? I thought back to my own childhood and the pressure my mother must have felt getting four kids ready for school while working and eventually returning to school to become a nurse. A beautifully plated hot breakfast with love notes in my lunchbox (yes, I’m dating myself) was not my experience. I’m deeply grateful that my mom made the effort to be present at as many activities as possible, but as kids, we usually want more.
I remember comparing my lunches with those of some of my classmates, whose mothers packed their lunches with such care and intention. I couldn’t help but wish for the same. Years later, I found myself trying to be the mom I had wanted, not necessarily the mom my daughter needed.
Healing old wounds through our parenting isn’t a new concept, but I experienced firsthand how impactful it can be. Not only do I now show up as the parent my daughter has asked me to be, but I also get to show myself the love and care I longed for when I was a child—care that, in a way, comes full circle through our relationship today. Life truly is cyclical, and if we pause to reflect, the answers we need and the wisdom we seek are often revealed. This allows us to show up not only as better parents but as better versions of ourselves.
I still cook breakfast and pack delicious lunches for my daughter. I still drop her off at school and pick her up most days. I continue to be physically and emotionally present for her practices and performances. But the difference now is that I’ve let go of the pressure to be perfect every day. I do my best, and I’m learning to embrace that as enough. Yes, I’ve also prioritized marking “Girls Day” on my calendar for a movie, mall visit, or ceramics lesson with her. I’m excited to parent with intention and confidently create memories that matter to her and will hopefully last a lifetime.
🩷✨