I Thought If I Mothered Perfectly, I’d Finally Be Enough

For a long time, I thought if I just did it all “right,” I’d finally feel like a good mom.

If I planned the sensory bins.
If I said yes to crafts and yes to playdates and yes to the meal plans and the gentle responses and the endless activities Instagram told me I should be doing.
If I was always engaged.
Always calm.
Always grateful.
Always holding it together.

Then maybe, just maybe, I’d finally feel like I was enough.
Like I wasn’t failing them.
Like I was undoing my own childhood pain by giving them everything I didn’t have.

And some of it I did enjoy — when I had the capacity.
But so much of it wasn’t coming from joy.
It was coming from pressure.
From fear.
From panic just under the surface of every spilled juice, every meltdown, every mess.

Because the mess?
That was my undoing.

The mess made me lose my damn mind.
Because I was already anxious.
And cleaning felt like the only thing I could control — like my life depended on it.
Sometimes, it felt like it did.

I’d cry and clean and cry some more.
And then my kid would dump sand on the floor from the stupid sensory bin I set up because I was “supposed” to give them a good childhood…
and I could feel the panic crawl back into my throat like fire.

And still, I kept doing it.
Kept pushing.
Kept performing motherhood like it was a stage and I was being graded.

Because somewhere inside I believed:
“If I just mother perfectly, I can finally feel safe.”
“If I get it all right, I won’t pass on the pain I’ve carried.”
“If I give them everything I didn’t have, maybe I’ll finally feel whole too.”

But the pressure was crushing.
And perfection was a moving target I could never quite catch.

Underneath the pressure I put on myself as a mom
was the same story I’d been carrying for years:

If I’m good enough, they’ll stay.
If I’m perfect, I’ll be safe.
If I meet everyone’s needs, I won’t be too much.
If I never mess up, I’ll finally be loved the way I needed to be.

I wasn’t just trying to be a good mom.
I was trying to finally feel like I was good enough.
And motherhood cracked it all open.

Every time I lost my patience or yelled or froze in shutdown…
Every time I missed a moment, or handled it wrong, or felt resentful…
It wasn’t just guilt I felt — it was shame.
A deep, aching voice inside saying,
“See? You’re still not enough.”

Tapping gave me a way to hear that voice — without becoming it.

It helped me pause when my nervous system was screaming,
helped me soften into moments that once swallowed me whole.

Tapping didn’t make me perfect.
It made me present.
With my pain. With my patterns. With the little girl inside me who was still trying so hard to prove she was worthy of love.

It helped me stop performing —
and start being.

A Tapping Reflection: For the Mama Who Still Feels Like She’s Not Enough

Karate Chop (side of the hand):
Even though I keep trying to be perfect…
I deeply and completely love and accept the part of me that’s still trying so hard.

Even though I don’t always feel like I’m enough…
I’m open to the possibility that I never had to earn love in the first place.

Even though I’ve carried this for so long…
I choose to be present with what I’m feeling right now.

Eyebrow: I’ve been trying so hard.
Side of eye: Holding it all.
Under eye: Carrying generations.
Under nose: And still wondering if I’m doing it right.
Chin: Still wondering if I’m enough.
Collarbone: Still chasing something I was never meant to prove.
Under arm: I’m so tired of holding it all.
Top of head: What if I’m already enough?

Eyebrow: What if I’ve always been?
Side of eye: Even when I don’t get it right.
Under eye: Even when I fall apart.
Under nose: Even when I yell, or shut down, or cry in the closet.
Chin: I’m still worthy of love.
Collarbone: My messiness doesn’t cancel my goodness.
Under arm: My softness is still here underneath it all.
Top of head: I’m not perfect.
But I am present.
And maybe that’s enough today.

The truth is, I still have moments where I slip into performance.
Where I try to do it all.
Where I think if I just do it right, I won’t feel that ache inside.

But I’m learning to catch myself sooner.
To hold the little girl in me with more gentleness.
To choose real over perfect.
To repair when I rupture.
To apologize, to reconnect, to breathe again.

And every time I come back to myself,
I’m showing my kids something I never saw modeled:

That love isn’t earned.
That mistakes are safe.
That worth isn’t performance.
And that being human is not a flaw — it’s a doorway.

If you’re in the thick of it, trying so hard to get it all right —
This is your reminder:

You don’t have to mother perfectly to be enough.
You already are.

💛 This is the kind of healing we do at The Tapping Mama —
Work that meets you in the mess. That helps you exhale.
That reminds you: you’re not alone. You’re not broken. And you don’t have to carry it all.

→ Explore a free Guilt Reset Call
→ Sign up to receive The Tapping Mama Reset — a calming EFT freebie to help you return to yourself after hard moments

You’re allowed to show up for yourself now — not once you’ve “fixed” it all.
Now. Exactly as you are.