Mothering

Motherhood, in all its forms, is a transformative practice. Nurturing the vitality of something or someone is a creative contraction and expansion that repeatedly invites me to the edge of my growth, the edge of what is familiar, the edge of what I believe I am worthy and capable of. The edge is scary and raw. The edge is a letting go of what was and an invitation to trust in what could be.

I was 28 years old when I became a mom. I did not read a single parenting book beforehand because I really didn’t feel the need to. Growing up in a large Mexican family, I had been around babies and kids most of my life. Mom stuff - changing diapers, feeding, burping and soothing babies to sleep, always felt natural to me.

Kidless me was a fantastic mother (lol) because witnessing my older siblings start their parenting journeys before me gave me insight into exactly what kind of mother I was certain I would be and what kind of mother I was certain I would never be.

Sixteen years and three beautiful children later, I have to laugh at how naive I was before my first child was born and how limited my perception of motherhood was. I have made every mistake I swore I would never make, sometimes more than once, and I am constantly learning new things as a mom. From basic stuff like the amount of energy it takes to plan meals and buy groceries for three growing humans (PS: teenagers eat a lot!!!), to more complex things like parenting within systems of patriarchy and inequality and the practice of consistently mothering myself in the process of mothering my kids.

The deeply nuanced, emotional labor of motherhood is often the least talked about and the most challenging to navigate. Motherhood is not one size fits all and no two parent-child relationships are the same. Every mother comes from a unique background with unique life experiences and childhood conditioning that gets amplified during the journey that is motherhood.

I had a major reality check after my third child when all the anger and grief I had unknowingly suppressed throughout my teenage years came bubbling up to the surface and brought me to the edge of my physical, mental and emotional comfort zone. Breathwork, meditation, therapy and coaching helped me understand why my teen self was suddenly acting out and gave me the support I needed to heal and expand beyond my growth edge.

There have been some tender and very raw moments in the last 10 years since my third child was born, but so many beautiful things have come out of it… the support of community, a budding writing career, and deeper bonds with my husband and kids.

As mothers, we are powerful, but we are not superhuman. I cringe whenever I hear a mom judging herself for failing to be perfect, but I also empathize because I used to do it too (and sometimes still do). Perfectionism, for women and moms, is often a response to systemic inequalities that discriminate against anyone who is not male and white. But the aim to be perfect is a trap that keeps us stuck at the edge, doubting our authenticity and disconnected from our unconditional worthiness.

Nothing is more disempowering than denying ourselves the fullness of our own human experiences. As we come to the end of May - honoring Mothers Day and all of our imperfect maternal relationships, Mental Health Awareness Month and the passing of the iconic Tina Turner, a mother and an artist who bravely met her edge with all of who she was - I want us to give ourselves permission to hold the wholeness of our authentic stories as mujeres y madres poderosas. Let’s allow ourselves to tend to our very human needs for care and support, and let’s meet our growth edges with tenderness, trusting that we are capable and worthy of healing and transforming far beyond them.

Con mucho amor.

Jessica

*RIP Tina Turner. Thank you for showing me at an early age what it means for a woman to embody her power and worth in the face of adversity. Your music and your story made me a young feminist and gave me the courage to transform beyond my pain.