Secretly, I feel like a failure

I was talking to my aunt the other day about our family and she said something to me that both shocked the hell out of me and made me feel really great. She told me that I seem really confident. Now this might not seem like a big deal to most people, but she is pretty much the only person in my family who I give a damn about their opinion of me or pretty much anything in general. This also shocked me because in my eyes, I am the most self conscious, self-doubting person I know.

 I tend to keep most of that on the inside though. Very few people actually know about the deep seeded fears I have about failure and not being good enough. To the outside world, my main philosophy is "I don't care what they think or say." But on the inside I'm a complete mess.

My kids are where I try to show the most confidence. All I've truly ever wanted are kids and a family of my own. I wanted to do better by them than my parents ever did for me. To not just provide for them but teach them, shower them with love and affection and watch them flourish and turn into amazing, confident people who are able to reach their full potential. I don't want my kids to struggle with the same internal demons that I have.

Some days, I truly feel like I've failed in that regard. I'm on my second marriage, there could potentially be a third one in the future, we live 2,000 miles away from our biological family, three out of  four of my kids have three men who they consider their dads. One biologically (although they maybe hear from him twice a year), for the older three, one as a step-dad, although he's the bio dad to kid number four, and then my boyfriend fiance person who has been in their lives for three years now. Damn, I feel like I'm watching their therapy bills add up as I'm writing this! Are you starting to see why I feel like a failure as their mother? And believe me, I could keep going. I probably will another day.

So I wrestle with all of these things, nearly every minute of every day. I convince myself, to the point that I'm a crying blubbering mess, that I have completely and irreparably screwed up my kids. But then one of them will randomly walk in, wrap their little arms around me and tell me they love me, or I'll witness an act of kindness from one of them towards somebody else in our household, or watch them as they proudly do their homework or master some task that they have been struggling with. And in those moments I realize that yes, I am far from perfect. But my kids know, without a doubt, that I love them more than anything on this Earth. Even if they're in trouble and I'm having to correct them on their behavior or a slip in judgement, they know that everything I do is out of love and devotion to them. I never had that feeling from my parents. In that regard, I have been successful and I am confident.