Competition

I’m not a competitive person. Not at all. I love to play games, maybe only because I don’t feel the pressure of the win. This isn’t necessarily a great feature, but not my worst either.
In some ways, it has served me well. I haven’t gotten caught up in unnecessary drama. I don’t try to keep up with the Joneses. And I don’t compare what my kids do to others’ (unless it’s being envious if you have sleepers). In other ways, I could be at a disadvantage because I’m not motivated by a competitive force from within.
I have always thought I’m just going to try to do my best in a scenario where I really care about the outcome. I wanted to be the best ballerina, but it wasn’t that I wanted to achieve my dream roles over other dancers. I wanted to dance Clara and the Sugar Plum Fairy for myself; to know that I had accomplished what I set out to do. I want to be the best mom I can be to my girls. It’s not that I want to out-Mom my fellow madres. My babies will eventually be the judges. Will they lament to each other? “Ugh I have to call Mom, no wait, it’s your turn to do it.” Or will it be like I am with my mom, “hi it’s 9:30, why haven’t you texted me yet? Can you come over?”. Only time will tell how I’m doing at my job.
I hope that I can show my daughters that as long as they do their best, it’s all anyone can ask of them. I don’t want to demand the best from them. I’d like them to develop their own passion for working towards and enjoying their accomplishments. Just like my surgeons, I’m hoping they strive to do their absolute best and that their best is amazing. I hope when they check out my tatas post-op, they say, “I totally rocked that one!” (high fives all around).

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