i spent a large portion of my young adult years convinced that the object of life is to be perfect. since i am a minister, some of this was steeped in what i thought was the perfection of jesus. in the area of my spiritual life, i was relieved to learn that the word “pefect” in greek really means “whole.” thank goodness!

but some of my drive for perfection was cultural and was fed by the sleek women’s bodies in style magazines, the pants-suit warriors hammering through the glass ceiling, and finally, the mothers who seemed to float along on lofty platitudes pertaining to breast-feeding, tv-watching, organic-eating, penny-pinching, floor-time playing, and the like. i am strangely grateful that my resolve for perfection died (for the most part) long before i became a mother, myself. it was a painful death, mind you, complete with anxiety attacks and some really good therapy.

but in my experience, we don’t move from perfectionist tendencies to normalcy all at once. there are stages involved, and stage one frequently swings the pendulum in the complete opposite direction. what was once an ugly competition to modal impossible ideals becomes an equally ugly competition to denounce them. in other words, the “i suck contest” begins, and in the context of motherhood, it usually goes something like this:

mother 1: “i haven’t showered in two days.”

mother 2: “oh, please. i haven’t showered in two weeks.”

mother 1: “well, my children watched six hours of pbs today.”

mother 2: “cry me a river. my children watched seven hours of dora today, and my son speaks only in spanglish.”

these conversations are rampant, partly because they are funny and easy. i have participated enthusiastically in these “i suck contexts” because the other common ways in which moms frequently commune (through defending or bragging) are truly abysmal. i am happy to be the very picture of imperfection all day long if the only other alternative is depleting fellow mothers or feeling depleted myself.

but surely there are healthier ways for mothers to be together! there has got to be a way for moms to come clean (pardon the pun) about the daily struggle for balance and sanity without all of this self-deprecating language. this is so difficult when language like this is popping up everywhere and is frequently opening pathways of connection between us. how can we embrace the “i suck contest” for its value and then move beyond it into something deeper and more life-giving?

cognitive behavioral therapists would say that we have to modify our thoughts and language first, and changes in our behavior will follow. so, to that end, i’ll go first.

my name is mary allison. i’m a mother. i am not perfect, nor do i suck.

who’s with me?