When I was expecting my first child, I experienced a profound realization. It wasn’t just the thought of losing my pre-baby body (which, honestly, I’ve come to terms with), nor was it the incredible journey of nourishing a tiny human with my body. It struck me that once my baby arrived, my life would no longer revolve around me—my desires, my needs, and most importantly, my dreams would take a backseat.
As a child, I often described myself as a dreamer. I would tell my grandparents about my future plans to live on a sprawling ranch filled with horses, dogs, cats, and even a parrot, all situated in a vibrant city with ice cream shops open around the clock. While I’ve achieved a fraction of that dream (thank you, Yelp!), my aspirations have shifted over time. By the time I became pregnant, my dreams included owning properties in both California and Hawaii, nurturing a lively home filled with children and friends, and, of course, writing books—lots of them!
The desire to become a paid author was alive and well before my daughter was born, and it only intensified afterward. Having her made me more focused and determined, but I also felt that my dreams paled in comparison to her existence. Shouldn’t her aspirations take priority? It seemed only natural that her well-being would guide my ambitions, pushing my own goals to the sidelines until she was grown. Or so I thought.
When I entered Pitch Wars, a major writing contest, I felt a surge of hope. Perhaps all the years spent crafting my first novel would finally pay off. If I could earn money from my writing, it would transform from a mere passion into a viable career, allowing me to justify hiring a babysitter for more writing time. This way, I could embrace the emotional toll of stepping away from my kids to pursue my literary aspirations without feeling guilty.
Months of editing followed, and while my children were still cared for, I found myself preoccupied with my writing. I was excited when agents expressed interest in my book. However, the subsequent rejections came pouring in. Feedback ranged from concerns about the lack of romance to the main character’s questionable motivations. Despite being close, it simply wasn’t enough.
Though I received encouraging comments from agents who recognized my talent and urged me to write another book, the absence of representation made me question my path again. Writing, once a dream, began to feel like an indulgence—a mere fantasy akin to owning beachfront property in Lanikai or that horse ranch I had once envisioned.
Consequently, I found myself writing less frequently, even after I had stopped sulking about my Pitch Wars experience. I learned that many successful authors faced numerous rejections before finding their stride, yet guilt consumed me whenever I tried to write. Thoughts like, “Why waste time on this if it may not lead to financial gain?” and “Isn’t this taking away from my kids’ needs?” plagued me. I felt like I was being a bad mom by prioritizing my writing over my children’s activities and experiences.
Taking a step back, I realized my discontent and anxiety were rising. I wasn’t fully present for my kids, feeling as though I was missing something essential in my life. During a family vacation, a conversation with a friend who had older children brought clarity. He explained that the most crucial factor in raising happy and successful kids isn’t the schools they attend or the money earned, but rather the example parents set through their own lives.
This epiphany struck me hard: by stepping away from my writing, I was inadvertently teaching my children to abandon their dreams. I was showing them that if immediate rewards weren’t apparent, it was acceptable to quit. By neglecting my creative pursuits, I was sending the message that self-care and passion didn’t matter.
Returning home, I felt a rekindled fire inside. If I want my daughter to aim high, I need to model that pursuit myself. If I want my son to take risks, I have to embrace my own challenges. I must be brave enough to face rejection and setbacks, demonstrating the resilience I hope they will embody. My children’s needs will always come first, but by chasing my dreams, I’m providing them with a roadmap for their own futures, showing them that ambition is worthwhile—even when the journey is difficult.
In conclusion, while balancing motherhood and my aspirations is no easy task, the lessons I impart to my children through my pursuits are invaluable. If you’re interested in more on similar topics, check out this authoritative source on parenting and personal growth. For those looking into home insemination options, explore these excellent resources. And if you’re considering expanding your family, don’t miss our article on how to use an at-home insemination kit, available here.
Summary: This blog post discusses the importance of pursuing personal dreams as a mother, emphasizing how doing so sets a positive example for children. It reflects on the challenges of balancing family responsibilities with personal ambitions while highlighting the significance of self-care and resilience in parenting.