Some seasons ask you to let go of a picture you didn't know you were still holding onto.

This is one of them. ↓

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the gap between the life we picture and the life we’re actually living.

For years, I carried an idealized version of motherhood — and when my reality didn’t match that picture, I wondered what was wrong.

Turns out, the problem wasn’t motherhood. It was the ideal I had created.

The first time I walked into a counselor’s office a few years ago, I was trying to understand a feeling I couldn’t quite name. I had this deep internal discontentment that didn’t make sense. Because on paper, I had the thing I had always dreamed about.

Growing up, I played house countless times, imagining the joys of motherhood. I pictured the little moments — telling stories, making beaded necklaces, having picnics, and snuggling with my kids.

During my college years, I remember calling my mom, breaking down as I told her, “I just want to be a mom someday.”

Fast forward almost 20 years later, and I was living that dream. Three kids. Staying home with them for the first time in my life. Except it didn’t feel like roses and sunshine.

The dreamy version of motherhood I had carried for years felt far away. Instead of storytelling and crafts, picnics and peaceful moments, I found myself exhausted, constantly arguing with the boys, breaking up fights, and struggling to create the joy-filled home I had always imagined.

I was checking all the boxes externally, reading all the books, and trying all the things — yet inside our home, I felt anything but peace. I felt sadness.

It’s been a few years since I sat in that counselor’s office, but what I uncovered during those conversations is something I’ve returned to time and time again in different areas of my life.

I had idolized the ideal of motherhood.

Somewhere along the way, I had created an image of what motherhood should look like — shaped by picture-perfect posts, magazines, books, movies, and the stories I had absorbed around me.

My eyes and my heart were fixed on an ideal that wasn’t real. Anything less than the ideal felt disappointing.

The problem with idolized ideals is that they leave little room for reality. And when we don’t make room for reality, we can miss the unexpected joys waiting for us there.

A lot has changed since then.

Two of our three boys are approaching the teen years. I’ve had to let go of what I pictured my reality would look like and instead enter into the life right in front of me — with open hands, fewer expectations, and more room for adventure.

The refining parts of motherhood — the late nights, the selflessness, the sacrifices, and the prayers — never had a place in my former ideals.

Yet now, I feel like we’re building something new together. And there is something exciting about that kind of expectancy — not because I know exactly what it will look like, but because I’m learning to appreciate and be present for the life we’re building together.

I’ve also come to accept that while I’m shaping them, they are shaping me even more.

What is one ideal you’ve had to release in order to appreciate the life right in front of you?

"When you stop holding yourself back due to concerns about doing the wrong thing, and instead focus on doing a kind thing for someone you know needs it, you'll be surprised by how much good your kindness can do."

- A Little More Social by Nicholas Epley

What's one small kindness you've been talking yourself out of this week?

P.S. If this week's note brought you an ounce of joy, would you forward it to someone who might need a little pause, too?

Every letter I share the things that don't always make it to Instagram—a collection of reflections, books, conversations, recipes, and little moments worth noticing.

They can join: HERE