![]() ![]() I had created my own motherhood dynasty, and now it was crashing down around me.ĭuring that season, I was given some painful and detrimental advice. As a writer and encourager of moms, I found my purpose and identity in the idealized image of picture-perfect motherhood that I wrote about. I had worked hard at holding things together, always keeping my cool. I wasn’t the ideal mom I had tried to convince myself I was. ![]() What was happening to me? Who was this angry, self-absorbed person who couldn’t even allow a child to be a child? All I could feel was shame.Īs a young mom, with three kids under the age of three - I was diagnosed with postpartum anxiety and depression, and all my fears about myself came to the surface. Then came the day I hurled a sippy cup of apple juice against the wall because my two-year-old couldn’t clean up a mess correctly. The signs had been there for weeks-the obsessive cleaning, the need for everything to be just right-but I chalked them up to my perfectionist personality. ![]()
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