(This post is a carry over from my This is Our Story series on Instagram, where it was too large to fit in a post and I refused to cut it down. To check out the series, follow me at @functionalish on Instagram!)

So, yeah. I had guilt I couldn’t fix my daughter, I had guilt I couldn’t be there for my son. So what? We all have guilt, right? But this wasn’t your average, run of the mill guilt that we all experience—this was in a league of its own. This was what psychologists and professional working moms and the posh, stay at home playgroup set all collectively call: Mom Guilt.

Psychology Today defines “Mom Guilt” as “the deep, pervasive feeling of guilt, doubt, anxiousness or uncertainty experienced by mothers when they worry they’re failing or falling short of expectations in some way.” Among others, new moms experience it, postpartum moms, working moms, stay at home moms, moms who work part time, moms who (GASP) take time for themselves, moms who are depressed or angry, and, surprise, surprise, MOMS WHO ARE SICK.

MOMS. WHO. ARE. SICK.

So, once again, for those in the back, just in case you didn’t hear that: MOM GUILT is the GUILT, DOUBT, ANXIOUSNESS OR UNCERTAINTY moms feel when they WORRY THEY’RE FAILING or FALLING SHORT OF EXPECTATIONS in some way.

Failing who? That one’s easy. Failing their kids. Failing OUR kids. We feel we’re failing our kids. But HOW, exactly. Failing them HOW? And when you answer that question honestly, thinking about the things most important to you as a parent, do the answers really even MATTER?

Falling short of expectations—whose expectations, exactly? WHOSE expectations are keeping us up at night? Bringing us to tears when we miss a game, a concert, a play? Or an entire SEASON? Gnawing at our insides when we constantly mess up with the forms and the deadlines and the paperwork and the payments our kids pay the consequences?

WHO—and believe me, there will be more than one answer—is setting the standards by which we judge ourselves and our parenting? And why on earth do we actually try to COMPLY???

I have pages and pages of content I could write on this issue. Like the story of how I became a counselor because I thought I could SOMEHOW learn how to do this parenting thing “right” and thereby not have my kids end up on ANOTHER therapist’s couch talking about ME but THEN got chronically ill on top of having a chronically ill kid and shot THAT all to heck right along with our credit rating. LOTS of things to be said on the topic. But here’s what I REALLY want to say:

Are you ready?

If you are a mother, SAVE FOR THERAPY, not college.

Why? Because you’re GONNA fail sometimes. PERIOD. You’re GONNA drop the ball. Probably A LOT. Sometimes from your own screw ups, but a LOT of times from things YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CONTROL OVER. And that’s going to SUCK. And your kids are gonna have some scars. As do we. But we ALL SURVIVE.

(And when you get that therapist make sure you get a REALLY good referral who won’t make YOU the villain of their life. Because you’re not. Did you hear that? YOU. ARE. NOT.)

So, when my own world came crashing down and I had to not only grieve my failure over not being able to spare my kids from my own failure and frailty, but had to do it publicly where everyone else could see and comment on it, too, here’s where I had to land internally when many of the people in my life kept trying to tell me I wasn’t do enough when I simply couldn’t do any more:

(…so, essentially, this is MY cure for Mom Guilt, of which I have been afflicted since I first saw the line go pink on the stick—)

I have only ever had only TWO parenting goals from day one:

1. That my kids would KNOW that I LOVE THEM not matter what.
2. That my kids would know that GOD loves them NO MATTER WHAT.

That’s it. That’s what I’ve aspired to above all else. I was still strict when it was important. I still expect respect and obedience. I still speak the truth and say the hard things. But I’ve tried, above all else, to form relationships in which they’ve known they’re loved unconditionally—and believe me, with a teen and a 20-something, that has been tested and tried!

And you know that? I may take the bait and snark back at my hangry fibro-monster when she’s being unreasonable, and I may miss my son’s band concert because there will be 150 kids making noise IN A GYM and I have a migraine ALREADY—but here’s the thing:

I know the answer to those two questions is a deep, resounding yes, yes YES.

And when I can remember THAT, I can drop the guilt and I can forget about everyone else and all their expectations and all my failures and my limitations and I can say to myself, “you know what?

“I’m I pretty DANG GOOD mom.”

(And I can even BELIEVE it, too.)