Ever hear that you have to be “all in” and “give 110%” if you’re going to be successful?  Although it would be great to have that level of commitment, for most of us normal human beings, “all in” is a fleeting experience.  More likely we have conflicting thoughts and feelings.  And in fact, I have found that rather than getting down on ourselves for these feelings,  acknowledging our ambivalence helps us better cope with it and reduces the risk that mixed emotions undermine our efforts.

Despite truly wanting to reach a goal, most of us hear frequent voices of temptation or regularly wrestle with doubt.  We want to lose weight, but we really want the cookie.  We want the relationship to succeed, but we are really angry with our partner.   By thinking in dichotomous absolutes, such as needing to being “all in” or “giving 110%,” we create either/or situations for ourselves.  If I want the cookie, I can’t be successful at dieting.  If I am angry with my partner, he is not a good man.  Trying to live in absolutes, we back ourselves into a corner and act in ways that are also absolute or create unnecessary disappointment in ourselves.

In making peace with our ambivalence, we open up space for holding conflicting ideas.  We can have one feeling AND another, rather than either/or.  By making room at our table for all types of feelings, we can sort through them and find a way to behave that best represents our long term true desires.  I want to lose weight, but I am hungry and that cookie looks good.  Wanting the cookie does not mean I am not doing a good job at dieting and does not mean I must eat it, either.   I’m less likely to give up completely if I have choices.  Being angry with my partner does not mean he is an awful person or that I must change him or leave the relationship.  By being able to stay in touch with my love as well as my anger, I have the best chance of working through our problem and staying connected in the process.

Learning to tolerate contradictions can help us act less impulsively and expand our understanding of the totality of our situation.  Much of the work I do with people in psychotherapy is helping them expand their capacity to experience conflicting emotions, because life and relationships are complicated.  Being “all in” feels good in the moment, but accepting our ambivalence gives us the flexibility to “stay in” for the long run.

This is the time of year when young people amaze me the most with their end of school year performances, competitions, and final exams.  In watching them, it reminds me how often they have to publically “put themselves out there” to be judged and evaluated, critiqued by teachers, coaches, and all of their peers.  They get chosen or rejected for roles, having to sing solos or dance in front of a crowd.  They get praised or yelled at in gearing up for a big game.  And they prepare for challenging exams where they will be graded in comparison to the scores of all their friends and classmates.  All in one day!

As adults we tend to lose touch with this risk taking way of life, especially when it involves being evaluated in areas we know are not our strengths.  We become experts in our fields and comfortable with being the ones in charge, either in our parenting or professional lives.  We hide out in well established routines that protect us from failure or embarrassment.  Some of us even live through our children, pushing them to do better, while we sit safely on the sidelines.  I remember one particular parent at a swim meet yelling at his son while he was racing in the toughest stroke, the butterfly.  The father was literally standing over the pool, potato chip bag in hand, shouting for his son to “pick up the tempo.”  (Extreme, yes, but we all do it to some degree.  Exhibit A:  Me sitting on my couch eating while I yell at my New York Giants to work harder to score a touchdown.)

By staying in our comfort zones, we rob ourselves of the ability to grow.  Besides becoming psychologically rigid, we may actually be putting ourselves at risk when we avoid being evaluated when we need to.  We might not measure our blood sugar and learn about diabetes or not share with someone that we are depressed.  Having a beginner’s mindset with a willingness to receive feedback is an important attitude for successful change.  Fortunately, like many habits, these skills can be developed.  The more often we do it, the easier it gets.  By committing to take a risk, we face our vulnerability and give ourselves the chance to feel the satisfaction in working to achieve a goal or become just a little bit better than we thought we could be.

So, I challenge us all to stretch ourselves a bit.  Enter a contest or race, sign up for the next level of a class you normally take, or start up something completely new.  Yes, your heart will race and you’ll have butterflies in your stomach, but you’ll also feel pride, be stimulated, and become more emotionally flexible.  You might even enjoy being freed up from expectations.  Like our kids, we may just learn to be brave again!

When I was in graduate school studying child development I learned about the term “good enough mothering.”  It was coined by Donald Winnicot, a British pediatrician, in reaction to the Freudian tone of mother blaming.  Winnicott observed that as long as a child was taken care of with basic love, responsiveness, and safety, most kids develop just fine.  Even though I didn’t have any children at that time, it relieved my fears about future parenting by thinking all I had to be was “good enough.”

Now that I’ve been a mother for almost 17 years, I still remember that phrase well, but with a quite a different perspective.  I realize being “good enough” is actually really hard!  Mothering is a challenging role, and just when I think I have found a groove in how to be with my kids, they change.  And I change.  It is a constant challenge to know when to step in and when to let go, when to follow advice and when to trust my instincts.  I want my children to grow up self-reliant, but I want them to feel supported.  I need to trust their choices, but I want to protect them from dangerous consequences.  The world has become so complex, the challenges of society so intense, good enough mothering often doesn’t feel good enough.  Surely Winnicott never had to deal with Instagram!

But one of the biggest lessons I’m learning as I parent is the importance of “good enough” in giving myself and my kids some space.  Good enough is a way of knowing when it’s time to let go.  Good enough gives me permission to take care of myself.  And good enough is asking myself to honestly answer the question, is this about my daughter, or is this actually about me?  Our children, especially our daughters, can be triggers of a mother’s fears, regrets, and unfulfilled desires.  Recognizing what is my issue and what is the issue at hand helps me think clearly and respond with less reactivity.  It also helps me focus on myself rather than try to control someone else.

I can’t say I am good enough at being good enough, but it helps me to try.  So many of the families I have seen for therapy have so much to deal with, trauma and poverty with long histories of abuse and neglect.  It takes time and hard work to untangle all the needs and fears.  But they have taught me that listening and understanding go a long way in building trust between people who are willing.  Good enough does not mean giving up on our children or not being accountable for our actions. But it does mean doing what we can with compassion and respect for both our children and ourselves.

Happy Mother’s Day to All the Good Enough and Even Better Mothers!

Although I’ll be posting my regular blog on Monday, I wanted to honor my Mother with this Mother’s Day post. 

You are never too old to learn from your Mother. Watching my Mom face change has taught me about humility, humanity, and what it is to have things happen to you completely beyond your control.

A few years after my Dad’s passing, my Mother was diagnosed with Progressive Supranuclear Palsy, a progressive degenerative neurologic disease.  For the last five years she has slowly endured the loss of her physical coordination and strength in a slow and yet unpredictable decline.  She is an independent woman who built her life around being active, traveling, and being in charge.  Her mind still very much wants to do all of these things, but her body is no longer able.  She can no longer eat the foods she wants to eat or live in the split level home she built and cherished for 40 years.   She can’t participate in her aerobics classes or prepare a holiday meal.

My Mother has had to adjust to needing assistance for everything she does.  It is so painful for her to be dependent on others for the simplest of things, having to rely on someone to anticipate her needs or, even more difficult for her, having to ask for their help with a voice that is losing the strength to be heard.  I know she would prefer not to have to, but my Mother is learning to adjust to her situation, swallowing her pride and giving up control in order to live safely.  She has had to let go of the plan she had of being the “woman at the gym in her eighties,” and now just hopes to be a woman who lives to be eighty.  It has not been easy and not without a lot of frustration.  And for me, I wish I could say I’ve been as gracious as I’d like to be or as patient.  It hurts me to see her struggling and to watch helplessly as she faces increasing challenges in taking care of her basic needs and feels like she is losing the woman she used to be.

But I applaud her for getting up each morning with the will to live another day and I am grateful for her ability to laugh at the circumstances I know might also make her cry.  She is brave and she is determined.  She’s a fighter and she is holding on to as much of herself as she can (leopard print wheelchair bag!).  The silver lining of this otherwise cruel disease is being able to offer her a place she can live more comfortably and the reassurance to know she is not alone.  I am also getting to see another side of my mom, one who is vulnerable and lets me comb her hair.  Another gift is being connected to a world of quiet caregivers, children taking care of parents, husbands taking care of wives, and being inspired by their dedication, authenticity, and selflessness.

I know, Mom, that I need to be more compassionate at times and that I need to stop thinking I know what you need.  Please know that I am grateful for the opportunity this new chapter affords for us to be closer.  We are learning to accept each other and grow in the process.  Taking care of you is surely a way I can say thank you for taking care of me, and a way I can step up to be a better person, a daughter that you can still be proud of.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.  No matter the circumstances, you’ll always be my Mother, and you’re never too old to need your Mom.

Talk about change!  I’m writing this blog post in support of Bruce Jenner and of a society I’m hoping has changed enough for a woman like her to live safely in it.

As a girl I cheered for Bruce Jenner as the World’s Greatest Athlete.  She was the epitome of what was deemed masculine, being both a superstar athlete and good looking.  But since then I hadn’t thought much about Bruce Jenner until a few years back when she appeared as part of the Kardashian (I never thought I would use that name in my blog) drama.  While I can’t say I was a fan (ok, in fairness, I never watched the show) I would see snippets of Bruce Jenner in tabloids looking rather sad and lost.   She looked more like a defeated ghost of a man than a champion.

So when I heard a promotion for the interview with Diane Sawyer, I watched it, in part selfishly wishing to reclaim my respect for Bruce.  Although I worried it would be just more tabloid drama, I was slowly pulled in by a watching a human being so completely genuine and authentic.  I thought about her bravery in opening up to her family and the public, and the genuine risk she was taking for a backlash of emotional and even physical violence.   It was a relief to see her family support and how relaxed and finally at ease she seemed.  I was really moved by her long and painful journey in claiming her identity and, more importantly than earning my respect, finally achieving self-respect.  Diane Sawyer asked her about the impending change of beginning to dress and live as a woman, and Bruce tells her, so assuredly, how it is only a change for others.  For her, she is finally being who she has always been.

While her transparency is important to me in learning how to support the transgender community, I can’t help thinking how we can all relate and be inspired.  Every one of us has twisted ourselves in some way to conform and be accepted.  We hide our true self with a false self that protects us from rejection.  It takes many of us a long time to shed our shells and expose the tender skin we live in.  There are so many people seeking the safety of therapy rooms, on-line connections, and support groups to secretly try on their real identity.  So I write this in support of Bruce Jenner, and all who claim their right to live peacefully as who they are.  Being rejected for our true self is crushing to our esteem, but hiding ourselves from ourselves is soul crushing.  Let’s celebrate not only Bruce Jenner, but the change that creates a world more welcoming for Bruce and all of us just like her, hoping to live as who we are without fear.