In defense of the fakers.

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Has anyone ever called you fake?  Have you ever called someone fake?  I have been on both ends of the stick.  Maybe you have looked at the best parts of someone’s life and compared it to your worst.  And chances are, someone has done the same thing to you.

So, it’s time to be real.  Real about being fake.  I recently read an article calling out the “fakers.”  The author was basically bashing all the women and mothers who seem to have it all together.  She judged them for showing up at the school drop off in cute work-out gear and green smoothie in hand.  She belittled them for always having perfectly behaved children.  And she put them down for being lovey-dovey with their spouse.  Obviously, nobody is perfect.  We all know this.  We are all dealing with something.  And I think it’s important to remember that just because they seem to have it all together, doesn’t mean they do.  But why is it wrong to focus on the wonderful and happy parts of your life?

So next time you start comparing your messy life with their perfect face, just stop.  Be kind.  Amid their own struggles they are trying their best.  They are go-getters.  They are amazing women and mothers who get up, dress up, show up, and never give up!  And maybe faking it is how they’re making it.

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The Real Me:  I am a 30-something wife and mother.  I won’t pretend that I don’t care what people think of me.  But each day I care a little less.  I care how I look, but I don’t believe it’s because I want to impress you.  It’s because I want to teach my kids that we always try our best; that we need to show respect to others and our self.  I try to eat right so I will stay healthy.  Then, I don’t eat right because butter and sugar and all the food is amazing.

My Real Kids: Bless their hearts, I love them.  Honestly, I have some really good kids.  But no child is perfect.  They watch too much TV, eat sugary snacks when they’re bored, and tease each other more and more every day.  But sometimes, when all the stars align on a clear night, they get along and actually love each other.

My Real House:  My carpet is dingy and my walls are usually spotted with finger-prints.  I keep my bedroom looking clean because I need a sanctuary, just please don’t look under my bed.  Dishes are usually always clean and put away, as is the laundry.  Clutter makes my mind…well, cluttered.  But dust and grime don’t seem to bother me much.  Remember, you are raising kids, not a perfect house.

My Real Marriage:  My marriage is my most important relationship on Earth.  But it is real.  We argue.  We annoy each other.  On purpose.  But we love each other.  We forgive each other.  We make time for each other.  We respect each other.  And we try every single day.

My Real Identity:  I am happy.  I love my husband, my kids, my home, and my life. But I have moments where I need to fake it, and I would bet in that way you and I have a lot more similarities than differences.  So here’s to all the fakers, making their lives the best they can be!

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