The Mama Bear Instinct Is Real…Very Real.

This clip from This Is 40 cracks me up. It's a little different because I have a son who isn’t even two, but…you get the gist. 😂

As psychologist Adam Galinsky explains in a TED Talk, the natural ability to assert ourselves comes most efficiently in a specific circumstance: when we have to advocate for someone else. He calls it the “Mama Bear Effect,” the idea that when a mama bear is in the position of defending her cubs, all bets are off.

As mothers, our bodies are wired to respond in a certain way if we sense danger, which skyrockets when it comes to our babies. When danger presents itself, it’s natural for Mama Bear to respond.

This example probably seems a TAD extreme, but this kid in my son’s daycare is always in his face. Note-- my baby is not even two years old, so yes, I am being crazy. But I swear, when he ripped my son’s binky out of his mouth, I wanted to lay his ass out. As a first-time mother, feeling this wave of Mama Bear’s realness has been interesting. It’s pretty powerful and reassuring to know it’s deeply rooted in our veins to do what we need to protect our babies. I dig it; it’s validating. I already feel bad for the kid who picks on my baby someday...ha! (I feel like I have to put “ha” in it, but I’m slightly serious.)

Along the way of life, I’ve been told and am fully aware that I worry too much. I care too much, and I love very hard sometimes to a fault. My heart is so big, and I care so deeply about the comfort and well-being of anyone I love that it consumes me if I know they are uncomfortable in some way. I inherited these qualities from my mother. Oh, Diane...she has a heart of absolute gold but worries constantly.

I remember working at Groupon corporate in Chicago. My husband and I lived about seven minutes from my work, and when he was on shift, I’d have to run home on my lunch hour and let Toast out to poop (our first Frenchie...may he rest in peace).

We had one of those cameras where you could watch on your phone. Toast had breathing problems and would often sit up, hunched over in his kennel--we never shut the door or made him go in there; he just liked to be in there with his cozy blankets. Everyone I worked with and my managers would tell me he was fine and to relax- he’s a dog. I knew he wasn’t fine. And if he threw up, which also happened often, I’d tell them I had to rush home that instant because he threw up. “He’s fine, he’s a dog,” they’d say. It pissed me off to no end. He was my baby, and I didn’t care if he was “just a dog,” I did whatever it took to get to him. To take care of him and make sure he knew just how much Mama loved him. It made me feel pathetic when these people would invalidate my feelings and make me feel like I was being dramatic. I absolutely hated it.

What I’m getting at is fuck everyone’s input. It’s taken a long time for me to say that. Your feelings are valid, your instincts are valid, and your reactions are valid. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Kapeesh?