As some of you know, in addition to being a wife and mother, I am a first year law student. As of this moment, I have completed 3 exams, and will take the final one this Wednesday. I feel accomplished, but most of all I feel extremely guilt.
I feel guilty because I have worked extremely hard all semester, but at the expense of spending time with my children. I feel like my actions were selfish, not because I did not spend more time with them, but because I am happier than I have been in a few years. I feel like my happiness was to their detriment.
Mother’s guilt is a very strong emotion, which many mothers feel at some point during raising their children. This feeling is not reserved only for working mothers. A mom could feel guilty simply for going out to dinner with friends, even if they stayed home all day with their children. At this moment, I feel guilty because I have neglected my children for the past 4 months, just so I could do well on 4 exams.
Although law school is stressful and time consuming, it doesn’t negate my love for my children. I have to constantly reset my brain each day to make sure i do my best to show my children I love them, and that I want the best for them. This task proved very difficult throughout the last 4 months.
Although my brain is telling me that my children a mother who is happy and excited about life, therefore they are happy as well, I can’t help but think about whether or not I should be a stay at home mom who is there for my kids when they get off the school bus. Am a being selfish in my own quest for excellence at the expense of my children’s growth?
How do mothers in the world feel about mother’s guilt? Do you feel a mother who did not previously complete their career goals, should wait until their children are older before they work toward their dreams? Should they work toward their dreams while raising their children? Do you feel that such a strong emotion is different for each mother, and should not stop a person from creating their own happiness? Tell me your thoughts.
