Getting Real With Veronica Ibarra

When I feel like crying over the spilled juice on the carpet, or screaming for the noise to stop when my kids are bickering as all kids do over whose turn it is to choose a movie, or when I just can’t stand to be called Mommy one more time, those are the moments I remember that being a mother isn’t all that I am and that loving my children isn’t all that I need to do.

I am also a woman who needs to be told she’s sexy and appreciated, loved and adored. I need moments of peace and quiet. I need to sit in my own skin and not have it touched.

The challenges of being all that I am conflict at times, and when I fail to attend to my needs, be they the needs of a mother or the needs of a woman—and yes, sometimes those are very different needs—I start to feel overwhelmed.

I am fortunately married to a very good man, but he can’t be everywhere or everything I need when I need it. We do the best we can to attend to our family, our children and each other. Still, there are moments I am overwhelmed, drowning in my own personal flood of things to do.

That’s life. Good and bad. I have moments where I can smile and feel absolutely blessed, then turn around and have moments where I just want to wail at how overwhelmed I feel. I’m not even talking about excessive mood swings. I’m talking about just living. The good moments outweigh the bad, and the bad moments pass relatively quickly. But still they happen.

When I talk about those moments of being overwhelmed I just need to talk them out. Most of the time that helps me work through them. It’s good to have friends willing to listen. But what about those times when there isn’t anyone around? Those times are the worst.

We all have these. If we sat around and compared them, no, mine don’t seem like that big of a deal. But that isn’t the point. The point is that in the moment I’m drowning, and I need a helping hand…or a compassionate hearing. We all do.