Motherhood Feels Like Guesswork — Until It Doesn’t
For years, I’ve carried a quiet question in the back of my mind: Am I a good mother?
It’s not something I say out loud at school events or friends’ gatherings. But it’s there in the still moments, late at night when the house is quiet, or when I’m watching my kids from a distance, wondering if I’ve given them enough… of the right things.
Motherhood, after all, doesn’t come with a progress report. There’s no neat checklist that tells you you’ve nailed it. There’s only the messy, beautiful, exhausting, deeply personal act of showing up, and hoping you’re doing more good than harm.
The day I opened the box
A few weeks ago, I decided to tackle the storage boxes in the basement. You know the ones… the “I’ll organize this later” kind.
In one humongous duffle bag, I found a treasure: school work since nursery school, stacks of my kids’s drawings, pottery, homemade “books” with crooked handwriting and bold, imaginative stories, made-up games, comic strips with their brand on them. I hadn’t seen many of these in years.
As I sifted through each piece, something unexpected happened. I didn’t just see scribbles and glitter glue: I saw evidence. Evidence of curiosity, of joy, of unfiltered self-expression. Evidence of little minds feeling safe enough to imagine, experiment, and create without fear of “getting it wrong.”
And that’s when it hit me:
I had given them something important. I had created a space where their true selves could come alive.
A different kind of report card
At that moment, all the doubts softened. I realized I’d been measuring my worth as a mother against impossible standards: the kind that live on Instagram, in parenting books, and in my own perfectionist tendencies.
But those drawings and comic books were a report card of a different kind. They told me:
My kids felt safe.
They felt seen.
They had room to explore who they were.
That’s not nothing. In fact, it’s everything.
Holding it all in a gentle embrace of self-compassion
Dr. Kristin Neff, a pioneer in the study of self-compassion, reminds us that we can care for ourselves with the same warmth and tenderness we’d offer a dear friend. She describes self-compassion as having three gentle pillars:
Self-Kindness – Speaking to ourselves with softness, instead of the sharpness of criticism.
Common Humanity – Remembering we are never alone; every parent walks through moments of doubt and uncertainty.
Mindfulness – Noticing our feelings with openness, without letting them become the whole story of who we are.
As I sat surrounded by my kid’s creations, I felt these truths settle in my heart. I could bring them into my own motherhood:
Self-Kindness: Instead of telling myself, “I’m failing,” I could say, “I’m doing the best I can with the knowledge and love I have right now.”
Common Humanity: Every loving parent wonders if they are enough. My doubts don’t make me broken — they make me human.
Mindfulness: I can notice the fear of not being a “good mother” and let it pass through, without letting it define me.
What I want to remember
Motherhood will always come with uncertainty. There will be days when I question my choices, my patience, and my ability to get it “right.” But now I know that sometimes, the proof you need is already there: tucked away in a box, drawn in crayon, baked in clay.
Those little creations reminded me: I’ve been doing something right all along.
And maybe being a good parent isn’t about never doubting yourself. Maybe it’s about showing up with love, creating space for your children’s true selves to flourish, and offering yourself the same compassion you’d want them to give themselves one day.
Have you ever found unexpected proof that you’re doing better than you think?
