I’ve had bad days. Recently I got a flat on the way home from dropping my mom at the airport. I don’t know how to fix a flat or change a tire. Nor do I want to know. Thankfully, the air in the tire let out slowly, the indicator light came on, and we were in a town (although I couldn’t tell you which town, since I was blindly following Google maps). I pulled into a Circle K/Hardee’s combo and searched for a Good Samaritan. Within an hour a knowledgeable and generous gentleman had fixed the flat, and we were back on the road.
As bad days go, this one was mild. A minor bump in the proverbial road. I was grateful I was on my way home from the airport and hadn’t caused anyone to miss a flight. I was also thankful I didn’t need to be anywhere in particular. But I haven’t always maintained a positive outlook when my schedule has been disrupted with these types of inconveniences. I’ve matured with age. I’ve learned not to allow trivial changes in plans to upset my attitude.
A bad day does not define me. A bad day does not define you.
Then I’ve had BAD days. When we heard our adoption proceedings were on hold—again. When my back went out—again. When my son’s girlfriend called and said he broke his leg. These events altered the course of my day, week, and months. These bad days weren’t so mild. My emotions didn’t stay in check; rather, they let loose. And I wrestled with allowing some of these events, especially living with chronic back problems, to define who I am. But still . . .
Having a bad back does not define me. A challenging circumstance does not define you.
But what about the day we learned our child was watching pornography? Or the day we discovered our child was still watching pornography? Or the day we realized our child had a pornography problem?
Those were the days I wore the capital L on my forehead. L for LOSER. Those were the days I curled up in a ball on my floor and berated myself for failing so miserably. I sucked as a mother. I damaged my child. I messed up. And it felt irreversible. It felt permanent. My emotions felt tangible and constant. I wondered if I could recover.
I wore the label “Bad Mom” wherever I went and whatever I did. When I looked in the mirror in the morning. When I interacted with others at church. When another mom asked me a question about her child. I questioned my ability to parent and wished I had chosen to remain childless. When any of my children succeeded at a task and others congratulated me, I silently thought, If you only knew.
But for my son’s sake, I kept going. I adapted. I learned. I grew. And I got up. One more time. Because I knew that my health, my son’s health, wasn’t contingent on how many times he or I fell. It was dependent on how many times we got up. My love for my child compelled me to get up one more time. For myself. And in order to help my child up.
My desire to heal aided me in learning that this problem does not define me. And this problem does not define you.
Did you hear me? Your child’s pornography use does not define you.
Our self-worth, our identity, our value, who we are at our core, does not come from outside circumstances (including poor choices our children make). It’s intrinsic. It’s God-given. Each of us has unique abilities, talents, and personalities. We are all one-of-a-kind and should respect ourselves enough to offer ourselves and our children grace. Recognize that we are composed of more than this one issue. Our success or failure is not dependent on one event or one area of life.
I try not to preach on this site, but I want to suggest that each of us is made in God’s image. Therefore, we are all priceless and have something to contribute to society. We have purpose. (Followers of Christ, see Ephesians 1 for more on our identity.) And His love sustains us enough to fulfill that purpose. When we lean into Him, rising after a fall is easier. When we understand our value and worth—and our child’s value and worth—getting up one more time becomes natural. From this position, standing tall in our identity, we can help pull our child up.
Are you feeling exhausted, worn out, over it? Do you wish this problem would just disappear? Have you had enough? Remember, parent, guardian, grandparent . . . This does not define you.
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About the author
For more about Barb, visit the About page. For information on Barb's book, Sexpectations: Helping the Next Generation Navigate Healthy Relationships, visit the Book page.
Wonderful wisdom in your post for anyone feeling like a loser for any number of reasons. I’m praying that we move closer to finding our identity is who we are in Him.
So true. I’ve felt like a loser mom, wife, daughter, woman . . . on many occasions. Thankfully, He doesn’t see us that way.