I’m not me.
I realize that’s an odd statement. How can I still be myself and not myself at the same time? I’ll give you the short answer: motherhood.
Being a mother (and a wife) comes with a laundry list of self-imposed expectations. You “become” so many things that who you once were begins to fade. You clean, cook, love, mend, sing, joke, story-tell, errand-run and hand-hold until there’s only about ten minutes left in the day. (Can I just say – the word exhaustion has lost all meaning). However, you don’t mind being/doing these things, because well, you love these things. You love the people who made you this way.
So why do I miss who I was?
Don’t get me wrong – I would never trade my beautiful life for anything. I just miss the me that was able to stay up until 4 AM talking with my boyfriend (now husband). I miss my schedule: unbelievably flexible and usually completely open. I miss taking long road trips to visit family. I miss…independence.
Hopefully by this point you’re starting to nod your head and think to yourself, “I feel ya, mama”.
I don’t think about the “before” often. It rarely crosses my mind. Although when it does, it’s difficult to come back. It is way too easy to get stuck in a melancholy rut dreaming of the me that was just me.
Are we mothers forever destined to be shadows of our former selves? Or are we something new entirely?
…I know that’s quite an eerie cliffhanger, but I promise I’m not crazy. There will be a part two coming atcha soon. ❤️