The Sound of a Mother Drowning
Why is there so much pressure on mothers to be the best, to hold it together to raise perfect little humans, as if perfect were proof of love? It feels suffocating- like I’m slipping below the surface, trying to tread water, in a sea of everyone’s highlight reels, struggling to maintain calm and order while my lungs fill with expectations of me. I want to scream, but there is no sound, it’s swallowed by the water, by the weight of perfection. Do I want to be heard? Because to be heard would mean to be seen, and if I’m seen, they’ll know I’m not perfect. I’m overwhelmed. I’m a mess. and isn’t that what society has taught us to hide?
