Who said you were a bad mother? asked a friend a few nights ago.
Was it someone on Facebook? Did someone send you a message? Call you out publicly?
Sheepishly, I had to admit that no one had.
But you're thinking it, right?
O.k., so you aren't.
I think it enough for everyone -- even the people who don't have time or interest.
After all, what kind of woman decides she won't have dinner with her daughter -- or buy her daughter new clothes, or take her daughter out for coffee?
One who has spent 18 years in and out of guidance counselor's offices, paid out big bucks to educational psychologists, paid for endless theater camps, hired tutors.
One who has bickered and quieted and wept until she thought she was barren of tears...
One who has walked around in a cloud of grief for months, at her wit's end.
Thank you, my dear friend, for helping me see that it's o.k. to set a boundary.
That it's not awful to get some distance right now.
That there IS something wrong that I can't fix, as much as I would like to make it all better.
When was the last time you did something nice for yourself? she asked me.
Perhaps it is now.
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