By Kelly Lang 
I miss being wildly capable. It’s a character trait I never realized I would miss because I took it for granted. I never thought it would be something that wasn’t part of me.
And if my therapist was reading this, he would pointedly remind me I am still wildly capable, I just have a lot more on my plate than ever before. But honestly, that feels like a cop-out. When I first started therapy, the goal was to convince myself I wasn’t Supermom. My therapist worked with me to see I didn’t need to hold it together everywhere all the time. He helped me see it was impossible to do so.
Years later, I don’t need any convincing I’m not Supermom. It’s very apparent with a quick look around that I don’t have my stuff together. My stuff is all over the place in a heaping dumpster fire of a mess. For the sake of his argument though, let’s say I am wildly capable still. If that’s the case, I miss feeling wildly capable.
I miss the feeling of knowing I can accomplish anything. That I can take whatever it is I’m working with, and I can bend it into what I need it to be using only what I have. I used to feel unstoppable. I used to be unstoppable. I was a force to be reckoned with.
But now, I am flailing. I am grasping for a foothold in all areas of my life, but I can’t find any, and I keep falling and falling, never slowing or showing signs of being able to climb back out of the pit.
I work full time at a very demanding job. And I’ve started to slip there as well. At least in the past, I could ease into imperfection in my home and in my parenting, but now that the imperfections are showing up at work too, I know I’m in trouble.
I work full time, and I’m also a mom to young children. And that shouldn’t be hard either. They are good kids with no serious medical or behavioral issues. They are “easy” kids in every sense of the word. But my husband and I are both learning to regulate ourselves while teaching our kids to regulate, and that’s been the absolute hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
So between working full time and momming full time and wife-ing full time and regulating full time, I’m wiped. And I feel like I’m falling behind everywhere. I don’t feel wildly capable. I feel wildly out of control.
And I don’t want to complain. I know I’m in a blessed place. I have a wonderful husband who understands the mental load and does more than his share of everything. I have wonderful employers who give me the flexibility to be there for my kids. I have a warm and safe home. We can afford food and utilities and some luxuries and vacations. I know I’m blessed and have a good life.
I started breaking down my past, insecurities, and attachments. I started unmasking and learning who I really am and what is important to me. I started to realize I am more than my accomplishments. That my kids need me to be with them more than they need a clean house. That my husband needs my attention more than he needs gourmet meals.
And now, while I know I am better off than I was when I was trying to do it all, I find myself missing my old self all the same. I miss the mom who did get it all done, even when I was on the brink of collapse. I know it was bad for my health, but there was a sense of satisfaction in being wildly capable.
And oh, how it hurts sometimes to look around and see where I’m not holding it all together. It hurts to admit that I do wish I could be a fun mom and still have a clean house. That I could be a perfect wife with amazing abilities in the kitchen and home and beyond. That I could balance more than my share of work effortlessly while doing the rest.
I find myself wanting to get more done. I want to get through the piles of mess in my life and to try to get back on the horse and get at least some of my stuff reigned in again. But it’s been so long that now I don’t know if I can. I try to get up and push myself to do things, and find that my body still aches and begs for rest. How long should I expect to rest after 30 years of overdoing it? Am I still overdoing it now even if I’ve dropped a lot of balls? Am I lazy now or am I just not ready yet?
The mean girl in my head says I’m just lazy. That I’ve been making excuses and that I’m now a sad shadow of who I used to be. And some days I believe her. Some days I’m sure she’s right. Other days, I don’t really care. I try to tune her out.
And on rare occasions, I rebel against her. I shove her out of the way so I can continue healing and getting well. I remind myself I am more than the sum of my productivity. That I can’t judge myself on one day and on one moment. That I can make amends when needed and that I am worthy of love and respect and pride as I am—without having to work for any of those things.
But still, it hurts. I miss being Superwoman. I know I’m better off not being her . . . but I miss her all the same.
by Brea Schmidt 
