Return to Self

I was listening to a Rachel Hollis podcast the other day when the topic of anxiety in women came up. It was suggested that when dealing with anxiety you should ask yourself, "Who are you trying to please?" I didn't hear much more of the podcast because my mind got stuck on the question. I began to list everyone I wanted to please. Then, my answer became clear in a hurry. Everyone. I want to please everyone.

happy family on vaca

I don't think it's the worst quality – to be pleasing. But obviously trying to please everyone is a recipe for early heart disease. Or at least some major heartburn. I think back to the days of family trips when our kids were young. I couldn't wait for these vacations – times to make great family memories! And we certainly did that. We reminisce about those times frequently. But I also remember, all too clearly, those feelings of angst when an annoyed father came into direct conflict with an exhausted kid. I took it as a personal failure if everyone wasn't cheery. As a matter of fact, I still do. In just about any situation. Ridiculous? Undoubtedly.

I realize that I've also been raising our kids to have this "please everyone" quality. It's partially why I have been so obsessive about their every action. "What are you doing? Who's going with you? Did you make sure to ask so-and-so along? You're not drinking are you?"  (So, the last question was geared to please a worried mother. Namely, yours truly.) But I'm trying to back off. I doubt my kids have noticed, but I haven't been texting them a million times a day. I haven't been giving my opinions on how they should or shouldn't react to certain situations. I haven't been telling them where they should go or where they need to be. (Of course, having Life360 allows me to monitor their locations so I know where they're at at all times. This is just a pure necessity for moms of all ages. I can't believe my mother doesn't use it on me.)

utter joy? or terror?

Right now, I'm going through an awakening. Our oldest has landed a real job and even has her first car loan. Our youngest is a month away from starting college. I'm not one bit nervous about settling into empty-nestedness. (I still really like my husband.) But I'm trying to determine how to dissolve the child-rearing anxiety and replace it with constructive concern as our kids transition into adults.

Part of this process, I think, involves returning to me. What does this mean? I'm not completely sure yet, but I think it means shedding some of these anxieties by doing stuff – like going on a motorcycle ride with Doug without worrying that the kids will become orphans. Or going tubing with other moms without worrying that my screams or muffin tops will embarrass the family. Or just listening to our kids without giving the advice of a chronic people-pleaser. Hopefully, the kids will love this new maternal, less-opinionated, less-helicoptered response! And if they wonder what's wrong with me? I will simply say, "Lots of things. But here's what matters: I love you. And I trust you'll figure stuff out."

And so will I.