See yourself as somebody else sees you…

see-yourself-as-somebody-else-sees-you

The other day I asked my husband what he was reading on his phone. He said, “an interview with {I forget her name}.” My daughter asked, “Who’s that?” And he said, “The greatest female athlete.” My son, without missing a beat or looking up from his book, said, “Mama’s the greatest female athlete.”

I have to pause here for a second. And reread the last paragraph.

My first thought was, “I’m not an athlete.” My second thought was, “My kids think I’m an athlete.” That’s crazy.

I never played a sport in my life. I never cared and still don’t care about playing a sport. I’m soft around the middle. I’m not a hard core runner. I run pretty slowly and I’m bright red when I finish. I suck at throwing and catching.

But…I’m strong and I’m tough and I love working out and I love to move my body and hike. I push myself through hard things because it feels good and because it makes me a better person and because it enriches my life. My children see that.

It never occurred to me that I’m an athlete. That sounds too accomplished or competitive or something. Something other than what I am. But just hearing my son say that made me feel like one. It’s a nice feeling.

So try to see yourself as somebody else sees you. See yourself through your children’s eyes. Or your niece’s eyes, your parent’s eyes, your sister’s eyes. See what someone else sees when they look at you.

Not long before that day, I had one of those days where I felt like I sucked at everything. Everything. Ev. Ery. Thing. Being a mother. Being a wife. Making a nice home. Being a friend. Giving a go at this coach thing. Giving a go at this blog thing. Being a mom in the mom world. Shopping. Balancing responsibilities. Everything.

But I know my children didn’t see me that day as sucking at everything. They didn’t see the dust and the laundry and the lack of farmhouse decor. They like my grilled cheese and my monkey muffins. Danny smells me for God’s sake, just takes a big sniff of my shirt or my neck to smell me and be near me and he loves the way I smell. My daughters think I’m beautiful. My son thinks I’m an athlete. My husband thinks I’m a wonderful mother and someone he loves to come home to.

Sometimes we need to see past the mess we think we are. And see ourselves as somebody else sees us…

a warm mother

a good cook

a beautiful wife

a doting daughter

a strong athlete

We all have bad days, but we are usually harshest on ourselves. Be easy on yourself, love yourself, redefine yourself. That day last week when I felt like there was not one thing in this world I was good at was a rough one. And I didn’t reach out to anyone because I didn’t want to hear, “That’s not true. You’re a wonderful mother.” I felt sucky and it’s all I would have believed that day. But when my little guy crawls on my lap and puts his hands on my face, it’s hard not to feel like he’d still have me over any other mom out there. Even on those days I feel like I do suck at everything.

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