Permission to be a Beginner
on bucking shame and walking in grace, at any age
This week marks my 20th newsletter! Whether you are new or you have been around for a while, thanks for reading Good and Beautiful Things.
The other day I was flipping through the book Create Anyway: The Joy of Pursuing Creativity in the Margins of Motherhood by
and I came across this list of Permission Slips for Mothers.Each item on this list resonated with me in some way but it was the ‘Permission to Be a Beginner’ that reached straight into my heart and resurrected memories of early parenting from twenty years ago.
I took the job of Motherhood very seriously (as one should) and I studied for it more than I studied for my SAT’s or final exams in college. I read the books that my mentor recommended, practically memorizing certain passages to be absolutely prepared when the test date arrived. Unlike written college exams, this test was the arrival of a completely helpless, miniature human left entirely in my care just a few weeks after she was born.
In her new book, Gadd talks about her own parenting preparation and her epic first walk through the baby store where she came across the Wall of Pacifiers.
“Panic set in as I stared at fifty options in front of me. How can I make such an impossible decision on my own? Which one of these pacifiers would comfort my baby the best? Which one of these pacifiers would make me a good mom?”
-Ashlee Gadd
The pressure to get it right didn’t end after our daughter arrived. I continued to consult the books for everything, trusting that with enough reading, the right answer could be found. If the books failed, I knew I could call my mentor and she would know the answer.
I never considered that I already had some of the answers inside of me. And I certainly didn’t allow any room to be a beginner or make mistakes (although I still made plenty).
To accidentally cut her fingernails too short or swaddle her the wrong way?
To buy the wrong kind of crib mattress?
To use the wrong sleep schedule?
To give in (gasp) and hold my baby as she went to sleep?
Unacceptable.
I can feel the intensity of these memories even two decades later.
Ever heard this acronym for “shame”?
Should
Have
Already
Mastered
Everything
Shame was my mode of operation. I don’t recommend it to anyone.
***
The truth is that I couldn’t believe God had gifted me with the privilege of caring for this tiny, beautiful thing in my arms and I longed to do right by her. My intentions were noble, but the pressure was way too much for my twenty-three-year-old self.
If only someone had told me I had permission to be a beginner. (And if only I could have believed them.)
A beginner has permission to freely ask for help.
A beginner can forgive themselves for the mistakes they make and maybe even laugh at the dumb things they might do.
A beginner gets to have patience with themselves.
A beginner gets to have patience with others around them who are also beginners.
In a recent conversation with an expecting Dad, the young husband confessed, “I’ve held the role of father up high for so long, I don’t feel ready to step into the role.”
“Did you feel ready to be a husband?” I asked him.
He let out a short laugh. “No!”
“That’s right. You figured it out as you went along and you’re continuing to figure it out. Parenting works the same way. You don’t have to feel ‘ready’ ahead of time.”
In other words, you get to be a beginner.
A Beginner at Any Age
It might seem a little late, but I’m signing the permission slip to be a beginner and I’m ready to freely admit it.
Motherhood is an ever-changing landscape. Just when you think you know the terrain, it changes on you. The posture of being a lifelong beginner versus a parenting expert is helpful for facing the bumps still ahead.
The permission slip doesn’t stop at motherhood.
I admit that I don’t know how to be an empty nester four short years from now. Beginner.
I admit that I’m still figuring out the friend-thing at forty-five. Beginner.
I admit that I don’t know what I’m going to be now that my eighteen years as a homeschool mom are over. Beginner.
There is so much room for grace when you’re a beginner.
I plan to be one for the rest of my life.
What permission slip on Gadd’s list resonates most with you? In what area of life do you need to declare yourself a beginner and ease the pressure off? I’d love to hear about it.
Words to Consider
Ashlee’s Gadd’s book is so quotable. And I’m only in Chapter 2!
“Permission to create already exists inside of you. It’s running through your blood, your bones, every strand of DNA embedded in the body God made from dust.”
-Ashlee Gadd, Create Anyway: The Joy of Pursuing Creativity in the Margins of Motherhood.
From the Sketchbook
This week I wanted to capture my first bike ride of summer. Here’s a glimpse at the process.
Continue the Journey
On Substack
Blessings from the Guest Nest,
-Aimee
Thanks, friend. It’s good to realize that the S.H.A.M.E. acronym isn’t known far and wide. We reference it around our house often enough that I assume everyone knows it. I definitely agree with more rest and more play. The kayaks are on top of the car and we are en route to the lake as I write this!
The shame acronym is new to me. A dear, older friend exemplifies the determination to be a lifelong learner, which sounds noble, yet it means being a humble beginner even in our 40s, 50s, and beyond. There’s tremendous relief in the realization that we don’t have to be experts! It takes the pressure off and gives us room to change and improve and grow.