The Martha Stewart Complex

The Martha Stewart Empire began the same year I had my first baby (at least that’s when I became aware of Martha Stewart and her beautiful, meticulous world). This was unfortunate for me because it almost ruined my first few years as a new mom. Why? It set an unattainable standard for women who thought we could do it all.

I went from being a working girl in San Francisco with a career as an event planner with trendy clothes and money to burn, to being a housewife in the suburbs COVERED in spit and sweat and surviving on a single income. Oh!

I searched for a way to regain control of my life again and found it one day at the supermarket checkout. There it was, a glossy magazine with photos of beautiful Swedish furniture, an article on “Toilet Cleaning 101,” and a photo shoot of a famous publisher’s quaint nanny’s bedroom. I can do this, I thought to myself. “I can be the best wife, mother, maid, volunteer and chef ever!” I bought Martha Stewart Living magazine and promptly mailed my check for $19 for a year’s subscription. Big mistake.

I quickly developed a bad case of the Martha Stewart complex and was exhausted, unhappy, chubby, and miserably failing to be perfect. The pressure was immense, the fun was infinitesimal. My lemon meringue pie was lumpy, my husband’s shirts looked like they were ironed by monkey, my beanie was askew, and I could never do a hospital corner properly. Worst of all, the fun and excitement had evaporated from life, as had the orange sauce glaze I tried to pour over my Poulet Parfait.

He had a beautiful daughter who didn’t care if her toys were arranged by theme or her blanket was made of the finest cashmere. She wanted to explore, get dirty, look at books, play Polly Pockets, and most of all, be with her mom and her dad. It was time to get rid of Menacing Martha and have fun again!