Leigh Leigh Speaks

Everything feels like an annoyance when you finally start seeing things for what they really are.

I woke up to my alarm blaring—dry mouth, already cranky, and not in the mood to rush. It was the third Saturday in a row I had to get up and immediately meet the demands of plans that needed my attention.

And I could already feel it…
that low hum of anxiety starting to build.

I had less than one hour.

Less than one hour to get myself and my foster daughter fed, dressed, and across town to a classmate’s birthday party.

And my mind? It was off and running.

Will I know any of the moms there?
Are they all going to be younger than me?
Why am I 40 going to a 7-year-old’s birthday party?

I’ve always been the girl who connects with older women, so the thought of being surrounded by younger moms made me feel uncomfortable.

It’s funny how fast our minds can spiral.

There I was, standing in the mirror, plucking chin hairs, laughing to myself about how I used to take for granted the days when I didn’t have to think about any of this before leaving the house.

And then the chaos hit.

As I’m putting on moisturizer, it hits me—
I didn’t give her a bath the night before.

And she definitely needed one.

We had 20 minutes.

I ran upstairs, turned on the shower, and told her to hop in.

“Wash up, hurry, get dressed, brush your teeth!”

As I’m flying back downstairs, I realize…

I didn’t wrap the gift.

Of course I didn’t.

Now we’re down to 10 minutes.

I rush to my room, throwing together tissue paper and grabbing a random card I had laying around—trying to make it look somewhat intentional.

Meanwhile, she comes downstairs looking adorable and completely ready.

I hand her a protein bar just to get something in her stomach, throw on my shoes, kiss my husband goodbye, and we’re out the door.

But even as we’re driving…

I can feel it.

That heavy, critical voice in my head.

What is wrong with you?
You’re not this kind of woman.
You didn’t used to be this last-minute, thrown-together person.

And the truth is…
I’ve always struggled with that inner critic.

I’ve held myself to high standards for as long as I can remember.
Always trying to do everything the “right” way.
The best way.

But lately?

That energy has felt like it’s slowly leaking out of me…
like air slipping out of a balloon.

I’ve been a mom for 21 years.

And I love it.
I love nurturing, caring, showing up.

But recently, something has shifted.

The enthusiasm hasn’t been as loud.
The excitement hasn’t been as natural.

And instead of giving myself space for that…

I’ve been questioning myself.

What’s wrong with you?
Who even are you right now?

So instead of pushing it down, I decided to sit with it.

To really look at what was happening.

And then I saw her.

At the party.

Laughing. Playing. Having the best time.

Completely unaware of the chaos we came from.

She didn’t know she skipped a bath the night before.
She didn’t know I wrapped the gift minutes before leaving.
She didn’t see my stress, my rushing, or my self-doubt.

She didn’t see any of my “shortcomings.”

She just experienced the moment.

Joyfully.
Fully.

And it hit me.

Why do I let my perceived flaws take up so much space in my mind…
when the people I love don’t even see them?

From her perspective, we showed up.

Seamlessly.

On the way home, she looked at me and said,

“You’re the best momma.”

And that stopped me.

Because the truth is…
this was her first time ever going to a classmate’s birthday party.

Before coming into my home, she had never experienced that.

And I almost let my internal chaos overshadow what actually mattered.

I did it.

Even with the rushing.
Even with the bad attitude.
Even with the “just get through it” energy.

I showed up.

And we had a beautiful time.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be perfect to matter.

Maybe we don’t have to go above and beyond every single time.

Maybe sometimes…

showing up is enough.

I know I’ve had a heavy, emotionally demanding month.
I know I struggle with people-pleasing and wanting to be “enough.”

And I also know…

Sometimes I’m going to feel tired.
Sometimes I’m going to feel off.
Sometimes I’m going to show up a little less polished than I’d like.

But I’m still here.

Still loving.
Still trying.
Still showing up.

So I’m learning to let go of the constant:

analyzing
criticizing
judging myself harshly

And instead, I’m choosing to recognize this:

I can handle more than I think.

Even on the messy days.

Because sometimes…

all it really takes is showing up, a little caffeine…

and 30 minutes.

Have you ever had a moment where everything felt chaotic, but it still turned out okay? I’d love to hear your story. 🤍

Leigh Leigh