Hung up on the wall for the world to see…This week I have been hung up on images, preconceptions, and self perception.
Here’s a test:
Imagine in your mind’s eye: A stay at home mom with four kids ages 9 to 3 years old.
Now picture: A woman who volunteers for a Fine Arts organization, a parochial school, and teaches Sunday school.
What does female triathlete who is training upwards of 10 hours a week for races look like?
Did you picture the same person for every situation? Or did your preconceived notions change the appearance of the woman?
As you may have guessed, all of these statements apply to me.
Here are statements that I often hear:
Wow, you don’t look anything like what I expected.
You have four??? kids?
Triathlons. Wow, you do that?
You have run marathons? really?
These comments and preconceptions sometimes make me wonder, what am I supposed to look like?
All of this self reflection started with my ½ marathon and comments in the school parking lot this week.
During the ½ marathon, I felt fluid, like a gazelle. I did not feel stressed or strained. My pacing was spot on. I felt like I could run some more (not the whole 26.2, but I was not crawling towards the finish). In my mind, my appearance reflected my ease in the run. The race photos, however, presented a different story. I never like looking at myself in pictures anyway and race photos are notoriously harsh. I look strained and in pain, panting towards the finish looking for a place in the soft grass where I can collapse and rest for a while.
My mental picture did not match my outward appearance.
Thursday, in the school parking lot as I was picking up the olders, I was talking to some of the other moms. Captain Destruction started making his "notice me- pay attention to me" overtures so I opened the door to reveal a very dirty and disheveled CD. Dressed in shorts, shirt, dirt, and rain boots, he was all smiles. One of the moms commented that I was a "good mom" because I just let kids be kids.
During the ½ marathon, I felt fluid, like a gazelle. I did not feel stressed or strained. My pacing was spot on. I felt like I could run some more (not the whole 26.2, but I was not crawling towards the finish). In my mind, my appearance reflected my ease in the run. The race photos, however, presented a different story. I never like looking at myself in pictures anyway and race photos are notoriously harsh. I look strained and in pain, panting towards the finish looking for a place in the soft grass where I can collapse and rest for a while.
My mental picture did not match my outward appearance.
Thursday, in the school parking lot as I was picking up the olders, I was talking to some of the other moms. Captain Destruction started making his "notice me- pay attention to me" overtures so I opened the door to reveal a very dirty and disheveled CD. Dressed in shorts, shirt, dirt, and rain boots, he was all smiles. One of the moms commented that I was a "good mom" because I just let kids be kids.
I mulled over that comment as I drove home wondering if the fact that she knew me changed her picture of me.
At a different time, another parent joked that I just shattered her perfect "Martha Stewart" mom image of me the day that CD showed up wearing rain boots (yes, he really likes those rain boots) shorts, and a winter coat.
At a different time, another parent joked that I just shattered her perfect "Martha Stewart" mom image of me the day that CD showed up wearing rain boots (yes, he really likes those rain boots) shorts, and a winter coat.
I contrasted these opinions against the unknown opinions of fellow parents at my daughter's gymnastics class. I have no relationship with any of those parents. In fact, I have only talked to one and have a strange history with another. (He is an ob/gyn and delivered my third child not a real comfortable be "social" situation) On Wednesday, gymnastic day, Captain Destruction’s outfit was a “learn to swim” long leg swimsuit complete with attached floaties. We got quite a few looks and comments from kids and parents.
What do you think those parents were thinking?
My guess is that they were not all thinking what a great parent I was. They probably ranged from “She’s got no control of that child” to “Wow, she must be at her wits end, poor woman” to “I guess that the laundry is not done yet”.
What do you think those parents were thinking?
My guess is that they were not all thinking what a great parent I was. They probably ranged from “She’s got no control of that child” to “Wow, she must be at her wits end, poor woman” to “I guess that the laundry is not done yet”.
Other's mental assessments plus the outward appearance of my children, may have or may not have matched the real picture.
With each successive child, I have gotten better at not worrying about outside appearances and have limited my fretting about other's opinions, but it has not been an easy road to travel. It took me nine years to not be mortified at my children's outfits. I can assure you that with my first child, there would have been a wardrobe change if the swimsuit presented itself as the "outfit for the day". Nowadays, non matching shoes, creatively colorful outfits, and nonsensical combinations (i.e. Cheese often wears leggings, skirt, long sleeve shirt, short sleeve shirt, and a sweater. CD puts on everything backwards) are the norm.
Having children has upgraded my camera: not an external camera, but my internal camera. Each time I look at my children, whether they are covered in dirt or clean from the tub, dressed in crazy combinations or ready for church, all I see are beautiful individuals with limitless potential, who are full of joy and wonder. Their images are back lit by a glow of love, pride, and hope.
Not only does this camera take the best pictures, it also has amazing clarity and focus when I am out with the kids. It gives me the confidence to to chuckle at the comments and looks as the opinions of strangers lose their value and I become more secure and confident in what kind of parent I am.
Their cameras are NOT taking the pictures of my children that are hanging on my mental wall.
Now, the trick is to learn how to use that same camera when I take a pictures of me.
2 comments:
WOW very well said. I think we all have a lot to learn on accepting ourselves.
I, too, shudder at all my race pictures. These photos look NOTHING like the 'me' I see of myself. Today, actually, at work I had a girl who I barely knew say "Hey you do triathlons? I think I saw your picture at x triathlon". She then proceeded to pull up a picture online of some girl (as I was not in that triathlon) to show me. The picture was of a slightly chubby butch looking girl with her fist pumped crazy-like in the air and a ridiculous open mouthed grin. I was horrified. Is this how people see me? And yes, it bothered me all night long.
Although I have learned to not really care much what people think of me, mainly because they don't know me, it still stings when others can't see into the real me.
I hear you, loud and clear. You are lucky to have such wonderful happy-go-lucky kids to be able to show you what a great, strong person you are.
Wow, what an amazing post. I had to laugh a little because I know I was the one who said, "You are so not what I pictured you to look like." But it so wasn't meant to be bad. I guess I did have perceptions of what a mother of four/triathlete/runner would look like (I think I sort of imagined my mother, but a lot younger and about as frazzled trying to get everything in during a 24 hour period), but you ended up being (physically) so young, cute and TINY, and (personality-wise) easy going, organized, and content. The best part of watching you with the kids? When one of them fell, and you shouted, "GEt up and shake it off." And they did. And kept on playing and laughing. I loved it.
Here's the thing - and I've said this before - your children are beautiful - well rounded and clearly happy and loved. They have interests and hobbies, and sit down to dinner with parents everynight. You have given them the safety and strucutre of a solid family unit, with the freedom to wear wet suits and floaties if that's what they want. You let them be who they want to be, not who you expect them to be. You take care of the important stuff, like emotional security and self-esteem, and don't waste focused on things like perfect clothing or brushed hair.
If I have learned anything from my sister during her first years of parenthood, it's hard enough getting out of bed in the morning, much less trying to coordinate outfits. so eff the people that might be judging. Let the mother who has not put dirty shirt on her kid, or forgot to wipe his face after lunch cast the first dirty diaper. And besides, show me that mother, and I'll show you a rigid lady and some unhappy sheltered kids.
if kids are a reflection of their parents, i would so much rather have a disheveled but creative and self-assured child over a picture perfect, well-combed child who is mean or insecure.
and p.s. i haven't checked out your pictures, so i can't speak to them. but i did actually see you running. and you know what you look like? very focused. very serious. very strong. you have a very strong stride. but you definately do not look like your in pain.
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