For the past eight and a half years, my life has centered around the two little faces that call me Mom. Everything I do revolves around them. The moment I saw those two pink lines on the test was one of the happiest of my life, fulfilling my lifelong dreams of marriage and motherhood. I reminisce about sitting in my basement with pink cream soda in a plastic goblet, stuffing a pillow under my shirt while binge-watching my favorite (now banned) show, “Felicity.”
However, the reality of motherhood shattered my fantasies. I quickly realized that being a mom was far more demanding than merely cuddling babies and marveling at their cuteness. Who signed me up for endless chores? What do you mean we need to eat regularly and wear clean clothes? The roles of Stay-at-Home Mom and Housewife seemed interchangeable, and I wish someone had clued me in earlier.
While I appreciate the sacrifices we made to allow me to stay at home, the overwhelming responsibilities that came with it were daunting: Should I nurse or bottle-feed? Use cloth diapers or disposables? Should the baby sleep in our bed or in his crib? Every parenting choice we made was scrutinized, and as a new mom, self-doubt crept in rapidly. When my second son was born, I battled postpartum struggles fiercely. My days became a blur of diapers (store-bought, of course), naps, and advocating for my four-year-old son, who had been thrust into situations beyond his understanding. I felt like the only title I could hold was “Mommy,” resigning myself to that singular identity.
Gradually, I learned how to lift myself from the depths of that overwhelming pit. I began to genuinely smile again, and when my oldest son started school, I experienced a bittersweet mix of emotions. I missed him dearly but was eager to bond more closely with my youngest, Levi. Over the past three years, we’ve shared countless moments of snuggling, playing, and discovering the wonders around us.
Now that Levi is five and kindergarten is just around the corner, I’m faced with the reality of stepping into a new chapter of life. My childhood aspirations mainly revolved around motherhood; I never envisioned what would come after that. Soon, I will have six hours each day, Monday through Friday, to myself, and I can’t help but wonder how I will fill that time.
“Well, Mia, what are your interests?”
Wait a minute; who is Mia? Oh right, that’s me… isn’t it?
I’m now confronting the unsettling truth that I’ve somewhat lost sight of who I am beyond being a mother. I hadn’t planned for life beyond those dreams, and the reality has reshaped me. I am not the same woman I was when I first saw that positive pregnancy test. I’ve evolved in ways I never anticipated.
My published novels and those waiting to see the light of day are exciting endeavors that I never thought I’d embark on but now can’t imagine living without. Yet, aside from that, what else is there? Scrolling through Facebook or Pinterest? Sure, I could waste hours on those platforms, but who wants to reminisce about knowing what everyone had for dinner or pinning design ideas I’ll never recreate?
As I prepare to enter this unknown phase, I feel utterly unprepared. I am Mommy, and that’s my identity. Yet, I am on the brink of having time to face the woman in the mirror and ask her who she truly is and what she enjoys. Frankly, I’m a bit anxious about her responses. But I know there is no one else in that reflection but me, and it’s high time I rediscover who I really am.
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In summary, transitioning from being solely a mom to rediscovering my identity is a journey filled with challenges and opportunities. It’s time for me to embrace who I am beyond motherhood and explore new passions and interests.
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