Today I want to chat about something that’s been present for me: my relationship with the fantasy mother.

The fantasy mother is the mother I would be if I lived in an ecosystem where I’m fully supported. In a life where I can be soft and relaxed.

This is not the reality for the mothers of our generation: we have to be strong and resilient, whether we want to be or not. We have to protect and provide, nurture and nourish, be mommy and daddy, all at once. And it’s f’ing exhausting.

This is what my fantasy mother looks like: she makes very healthy food. She is also crafty, doing painting and pottery with her kids. She dances with her children every day. She wakes up early to make breakfast (cutting up fresh fruit), and greets her children with a smile and a hug. She is on top of homework and joyfully teaching life skills, like biking, swimming, tidying.

And the truth is: I am not that mother. I am still a very good mother, but there is a gap between the mother I am and the mother I know I could be. I know this level of motherhood mastery is accessible for me, but for this gap. And that gap is filled with grief and guilt.

There’s this unbelievable sadness about the life I could have had with my children, if only I was more supported. They did not have access to that mother because I have just been carrying so much.

The financial burden. The need for safety. So many logistical challenges. All while carrying a big business and a team and case work, work I deeply enjoy but that also requires unbelievable stamina and resourcefulness.

And it’s my children who often get the worst side of me. The cranky side. The tired side. The distracted side. The overwhelmed side.

It hurts to write that. And it hurts because this is the reality of motherhood in modernity. I know you feel it too.

I see some fantasy mothers on instagram. At least they present themselves this way. I’m not quite sure what the hack is. Maybe a rich husband or generational wealth, providing them with the ability to soften into their motherhood.

This fantasy is not a lifestyle that is in any way accessible unless the resources are already there. Because otherwise, securing those resources will take up all of our time and energy.

Which means we have to work really hard to get to the same baseline where those mothers already are. They have an unbelievable head start. We have to muster our way there through pure grit and resolve.

If that’s you, I’m in awe of you. You are so strong. WE are so strong.

And sometimes I mourn for my children. Because being the provider means I cannot be as attentive and intentional with them as I’d want to be. I love my work. It gives me so much meaning. I don’t even want to be a stay-at-home mom, and at the same time, I wonder how my relationship with my work would change if it would not also be the exclusive source of how we all survive. If it could truly be a passion project. That is not the realm where I am operating. My business supports a bunch of people right now, including my little ones.

There is trend to embrace the domestic and family side of our lives. That’s beautiful. And it’s also an immense privilege. A privilege we pretend is accessible to everyone. But it’s usually not a choice. For most of us, we have to show up in our work whether we have the capacity for it or not.

It’s in this tension that I meet you. You, like me, may be an ambitious woman, but you’d also prefer to be in a lifestyle where you can choose to work instead of having to work.

I have to say that over the years, my business has created resourcefulness to replenish those around me, including me. So yes, I have privilege now too, but it’s also up to me to make sure the business keeps generating what everyone needs.

In hunter-gatherer societies, the mothers did not also have go to hunt for the entire village. They just had to feed their babies.

Truly, if we were in a village setting, we’d only be responsible for a sliver of what we currently hold.

We are holding so, so much. So of course, the fantasy mother is out of reach.

And so today, I want to say, I am so so proud of you, and I am so so proud of me. We have been doing the job of multiple people all at once.

It takes strong women to sustain what we have been sustaining, and if you sometimes have moment where you don’t want to be strong, but soft, of course you do.

So let’s be soft together today.

And let’s look the fantasy mother in the eye and say,

“You are not real. And your perfection is boring. And it sets up my children to a completely unreasonable standard, where they will also feel like they need to hold themselves up to this high bar, and find partners who are operating at optimal level at all times. We may meet again one day, but for now, I love the version I am right now much more. She is real and raw and she’s doing the best she can, without anything being given to her. And this grit and resourcefulness is something you will never be able to model or teach our children.”

My last words for you are this:

Right now, today, with your messy bun and stretchy leggings and cluttered house and puffy eyes, this version of you, she is exactly who your children need.

She is the version your children chose. Trust their choice. There is a whole lifetime left to spend and grow together.

The art of motherhood is cumulative. We keep building on a foundation. We get better at it every year.

We may close the gap one day, or we may not, but even in this version, right now, you are exactly on track.

We are never behind on our path, because it’s our path, and we set the pace.

And keep in mind that motherhood perfectionism and performatism is a uniquely American phenomenon. Nothing makes me feel like a better mother than being in Europe, where mothers barely watch their children. They get dropped from grandmother’s house to summer camp to a friend’s house to extracurricular activities to a random childcare provider at their gym. They rarely “play” with their children like the American moms.

This is mainly a cultural difference: they just believe it’s not just their job to raise the children, and that the children belong to everyone. It requires a communal effort. In my experience, despite there being a social safety net, they spend far less time with their children than their American counterparts.

So it’s actually interesting that in places where the mothers are more supported, they become less involved. They are not rising up to the fantasy mothers I have in my head. At all. Instead, they let themselves off the hook. They unsubscribe from the guilt and grief. They live their lives. Because they don’t believe that the job of raising kids is uniquely theirs. They believe it belongs to all of us.

And this always reminds me that the fantasy mother is a trap imposed on me by influencers and American performatism and perfectionism. And it’s always an opportunity to unfollow those accounts.

So trust your children.

The children always lead the way.

You’re doing infinitely better than the French moms.