You know those cute mothers that have it all together, make dinner every night, have a perfect marriage, and never sweat?
But I beat myself up at least once a day for not being that mom. That person that I don’t know. That person that, if I met in real life, I’d probably just want to run over with my car.
So it makes no sense that I compare myself to this mythical person that doesn’t exist and I wouldn’t like even if she did exist. But I do. All.the.time.