Who dares call themselves good? So many people walk around this place never feeling good enough. But for who? For me and you?? (sounds like a song!) They cake on the makeup, wear stilettos to the beach, wear their short shorts SHORT and hope that someone notices them, that they fit in, that they are good enough!

Sounds a bit like me sometimes. I just cannot bear to wear my pilling, slightly hole-ridden t-shirt to school pick-up! What will ‘they’ think? “Poor old gal, money’s as thin as that pathetic excuse for a t-shirt”. Or they may just take a swift glance around the playground in the hope that they too fit in somewhere. I was talking to a few mums about this very thing. It’s a given that kids will feel insecure in the playground, but not the mums. We strut around with our clocks ticking and our sunnies on, giving a swift wave, smile, hello to the regulars we see everyday. What the kids may like to know, though, is that parents care what other parents think of them. We have to make new friends and fit in as well.

The thing grown-ups have learned is how to hide the tears and the nerves. We are experts at it. Busyness is particularly helpful. When you’re scared that people won’t like you, having things to do makes it hard for them to find out who you really are. In the end there won’t be time for them to make a firm decision either way.

Light conversations about ‘the kids’, business and movies are great topics to distract them away from the constant butterfly dance in your tummy. Humour is also a winner, as long as you’re a little bit funny and you don’t try too hard. All this surface stuff works well to hide our insecurities and fears that if they dig a little deeper they may not like what they see.

So who, deep down, is good enough for whoever? Is it the lady with the designer clothes and the beautiful home, with career, travel and family seemingly going strong? Or is it the housewife, home with the kids, setting up the craft in the afternoon and teaching her kids how to cook? Is it the juggling mother who seems to do everything with 23 kids, a massive house to clean, work coming out of her nostrils and a smile permanently frozen on her tired face? And in the end, do we really look at each other or are we too busy looking at others in the hope they may look at us?