The Sweetest Mother's Day Gift!

“Good game. Fun day,” I repeated to myself as I walked in the door.

We had just returned from my 8-year-old’s little league game after a nice win. However, it was in the car on the way home when I started to feel it. The symptoms were all too familiar: pounding temples, exhaustion, and dizziness.

Thankfully, my trusty migraine pills were in the carry-on bag along with the other typical standard life necessities: keys, wallet, lip gloss, anti-anxiety pills (oh, and a few anti-nausea tablets, just in case I get an upset stomach on a random Tuesday).

I can laugh about it.

I can make jokes.

I can even share cute memes on social media about my lack of desire to ever leave the house.

I am a good sport after all.

Nonetheless, my struggle is still real.

When I said I had enjoyed the game, I wasn’t lying. Unfortunately, my being in the outside world comes with a price.

Too much “peopling” is how I jokingly refer to it.

The proper medical term is social anxiety. And I deal with it every day.

RELATED: What You Need to Know About My Social Anxiety

I have been shy and anxious for as long as I can remember. I was the kid whose face turned crimson red anytime, God forbid, I was called upon in class. My goal for the day was to get through the six or so hours with as little social interaction as possible. In other words, I prayed every day to not embarrass myself. Embarrassing myself was, in my world, the absolute worst thing I could ever do.

It was easy in the early days. Frankly, I didn’t know how lucky I had it. Even after a long and rough day, I could go home and recuperate in the privacy of my own home with mommy and some milk and cookies.

Now, as an adult, I don’t have the privilege of hiding behind mommy.

Nope, not at all.

Mostly because . . . I am the mommy now.

Being an adult with social anxiety is tricky.

I tell my kids constantly they need to be brave, speak their mind, and stand up for themselves. Ironically, I often have to heed my own advice.

When I had my daughter 11 years ago, one of my biggest concerns was fitting in. Every new mom needs a set of mommy friends, right?

RELATED: I’m Not Stuck-Up, I’m Just Socially Exhausted

It shouldn’t be too hard, I thought. I’m all grown up, and we all have little babies in common. I would walk past the same group of moms in the playground and wonder if I should join in. During those times, numerous thoughts would run through my mind:

What if they think I’m weird? What if they are not currently accepting any new members? What if I was just destined to be alone forever?

While I didn’t find my way into that particular group, I did eventually find a great group of ladies who I enjoyed hanging with. I adore them to this day.

It wasn’t easy. And it certainly wasn’t magic, either. In order to meet people, I had to crawl out from under my bed. I had to make the effort. I replied yes to a Facebook invite for mom’s night. I needed to put one foot in front of the other and walk into the restaurant where the ladies were getting together. After a couple of nervous strolls around the block, I did just that.

The rest was history.

It was then that I started to learn a very important lesson: I may struggle with social anxiety, but it doesn’t have to be the thing that defines me.

I am more than just a tag.

Like any other person, I enjoy laughs, fun, great times, and good people.

I love life and I love my family.

I am shy, but I am also a mom, wife, friend, daughter, and sister.

I am me.

One of the most comforting aspects when opening up about my anxiety is realizing that I am not alone. There are so many of us.

RELATED: Sometimes Being an Introvert and a Mom is Hard

Now that my daughter and son are growing up, I want to set a good precedent for them. They are both a little shy. And that is OK! I just want to be able to continue and let them know that it is perfectly acceptable to speak up.

And I do.

It is hard, but I do.

So, what are you waiting for? Go ahead and join that Facebook moms’ group. Say yes to that playdate invite. Meet some great people.

Who knows? It could very well be that the group would not be the same without your presence.

It’s so very worth it.

And, believe me, so are you.

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Kathleen Sullivan

I am a freelance writer and full-time mom. My work has appeared on: The Huffington Post, Scary Mommy, Brain, Child Magazine, Mamalode xoJane, Parentco., Mommyish and Your Tango. I can also be found blogging at: http://www.threekidsonehusbandandabottleofwine.com/

Maybe that “Mean Mom” Is Just Busy

In: Friendship
Woman walking away

Ever since Ashley Tisdale wrote about leaving her toxic mom group, I have noticed something shift among women my age, moms in our 40s who built friendships through school drop-offs, soccer sidelines, neighborhood walks, and birthday parties. Here is the thing….no one wants to be labeled the “mean girls mom group.” Recently, I was out to dinner with a friend when she shared something that stuck with me. A woman had quietly left their local moms’ group and later treated them as if they were exclusionary. The final straw? She had sent a group text at dinnertime and no one...

Keep Reading

I’m Going to Tell You the Things Your Mom Should Have Told You

In: Living, Motherhood
Mother with three grown daughters

During my oldest daughter’s freshman year of college, I started being haunted by a recurring dream of an old-fashioned suitcase—one of those hard-sided ones that’s as big as they come. In the dream, when I open the suitcase, it’s overflowing with clothing, shoes, and all kinds of stuff that belongs to me and each of my three daughters. Everything in the suitcase is all jumbled together. Nobody else in the dream is worried about sorting through everything, but I am totally stressed about it. To top it all off, I have to deal with this suitcase while preparing for a...

Keep Reading

Your Worth Is Not Someone Else’s To Measure

In: Faith, Living
Woman looking over canyon

Insecurity is something we all carry in one form or another. For me, it has probably always looked confident and outgoing from the outside. But internally, it can feel heavy, complicated, and exhausting at times. And when someone comes along whose behavior reinforces those insecurities, it amplifies what was already there. There was someone I had hoped to genuinely connect with, but it was clear from the start that the feeling wasn’t mutual. From the beginning, their wall was up. No matter how kind I tried to be or how carefully I showed up, it never came down. Their distance...

Keep Reading

My In-Laws Don’t Like Me and It Breaks My Heart

In: Living
Family silhouette by the water

Since I was a little girl, I dreamed of what it might be like to gain an entire family when I got married. My parents were lovely. I never wanted for anything, and I had very involved grandparents. However, any other family was far away, and much of my childhood was lonely. I dreamed of brothers-in-law or sisters-in-law and their spouses to do life with. Maybe we would go on road trips together or stay in and play games and have a few drinks. I dreamed of raising our kids together and giving my children the cousin memories I only...

Keep Reading

We Fell Out of Friendship

In: Friendship
Woman gazing out window with coffee

It was just a normal Monday afternoon, sitting in the waiting room at the dentist’s office. I had one kid reading her Kindle quietly, one loudly proclaiming facts about the different fish in the large tank, and one arguing with her just because he could. I had completed all the forms online before our appointment, so we were simply waiting. Then you walked in. You, who used to be the sister of my heart.  Summers of sleeping in tents in my parents’ backyard, while you told me terrifying stories. The smell of hairspray from ’90s dance recitals while we twirled...

Keep Reading

There Was a Shooting at My High School; Can I Keep My Kids Safe Anymore?

In: Living
Kids with backpacks in front of school, view from behind

It is enough. I have had it. I had thought this year would be better. I tried to will it. I tried to convince myself with my resolutions during that first week in January. I typed my goals up in a neat little list. I was specific. Looked at it each morning. My goals focused primarily on being a good person. On prioritizing spending time with the people I love and the people I am responsible for. My goals focused on seeking the good while I feel there is a foot in a heavy boot on the center of my...

Keep Reading

Every Neighborhood Needs a Baby

In: Living
Woman playing pat-a-cake with a baby as toddler looks on

My grandmother was astounded when I told her I had met so many of her neighbors after we had only lived in her house for a couple of weeks. Grandma had decided to move into a senior citizens’ apartment building, and the timing was wonderful. John and I had been renting a townhouse, but once our baby, Christopher, was born, the situation wasn’t ideal any longer. Christopher was very fond of being awake and vociferous during the night, and the paper-thin walls of the duplex were horrible. When Grandma broached the idea of us renting her small two-bedroom home as...

Keep Reading

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Woman at the beach as waves come in

“Ahhh!” My underwater scream garbled in my snorkel tube as the manta ray’s cavernous mouth swept a hand’s distance from my face. My fingers tightened around the surfboard until my knuckles ached. My arms trembled. I jerked my head side to side, searching for my daughters, Mia and Megan. Recent college graduates, they had joined me on one last mother-daughter vacation before launching their adult lives. They floated easily on the vibrant Hawaiian water, relaxed, trusting. I wanted to borrow their calm. Earlier, our guide had explained that the LED lights built into the surfboard attracted plankton the way college...

Keep Reading

When Did We Change, Mama?

In: Living
Elderly mother and daughter

When did we change, Mama? Was it a moment? Or a gradual shift? When did I stop coming to you with my burdens and fears, and make room for you to come to me with yours? When did I sense you needed more comfort and guidance than I did? That it was time to present only my best side? My confident, reassuring, everything is fine side? So you wouldn’t have to worry needlessly, obsessively, like always before. Was it when I first began to notice you struggling to ease out of your favorite chair? Or the times you started forgetting...

Keep Reading

My ‘Dusty Son’ is 5

In: Living, Motherhood
Little boy holding out dandelion bouquet

As moms, we categorize everything. Girl mom. Boy mom. Wine mom. Outdoor mom. Farm mom. City mom. Now there’s been an uptick in social media trends about exposing our girls to worldly and fancy experiences so someday they’re “not impressed by your dusty son.” I won the parenting jackpot (in my humble opinion) and have an older daughter and a younger son. He’s five. Not a grown man making real-world decisions. Not a college kid learning how to adult. He’s five. He loves dinosaurs and Mario. His big sissy and his Great Dane. He is incapable of cruelty and is...

Keep Reading