“How are you doing?” my husband asked as we sat at our kitchen bar with a cup of coffee. It was 6 AM on a Tuesday morning coming straight off of a holiday weekend. “I’m okay..” I said, my eyes welling up as I stared down to the floor. I finally gathered the bravery to look up into his eyes, “I don’t know what is wrong with me? I can’t help but wonder if I belong here? I feel forgotten. Like I don’t exist anymore.” Of course he assured me that I belong, that I am loved and cherished as the wife and mother that I am. But, that’s not quite what I meant. I tried to find a way to articulate that I didn’t mean “here” as in physically present in our home and our life together, but much broader. I constantly wonder how I fit into this world anymore. I feel like an imposter. I question if my presence and existence are necessary aside from to the people who depend on me.
Over the course of thirteen and a half months, I gave birth to two children. No matter how many books, articles or blogs I read prior, I could have never prepared for the feeling I have now on the other side. I am disconnected from my “self”. What is “self” to me anymore? I know who I was before kids but is it possible for that person to exist in this new season of life? I hardly think so. I was composed of confidence, hobbies, my own agenda and career success. I loved drawing and taking photos and writing. God I loved writing. I would wake up every single day and journal before my days began. I was able to work out as frequently as I pleased and cooking colorful and healthful meals was a fun pass time, a time to express myself creatively. I took art classes and attended happy hours on a whim. I was living.
Now, I feel so lost and overwhelmed knowing that even if I wanted to participate in the same hobbies I had before, it couldn’t be the same. I am exhausted. I don’t get more than 20 minutes to myself (and that’s on a good day) at a time. I didn’t shower for four days in a row last week simply because I couldn’t find the time for the kids to stay occupied and watched over in order for me to step away. One thing working against me is my husband works nights and sleeps during the days. I’m a lone soldier while we are home on the evenings and weekends. I never would have imagined how extreme the demand of motherhood is. Nor the isolation one feels while battling at the frontlines. Every day we work off of a jam packed agenda. Wake up, milk for both babies, change the diapers, new outfits, bundle them up and off to the sitter before 8 AM. Drop the kids, head to work *insert feelings of shame for not being able to be at work earlier*, work, work, work. Sneak out as close to 4:30 PM as possible to get the kids on time. Get home, unload the car and the kids, time to start dinner. Cook something easy enough but also healthy enough. Healthy enough but also tasty enough. Clean up the dinner mess, haul the kids up to the bath, alternate getting them lotioned, diapered and pajamad. Get the older one positioned with Wallace and Gromit because lord knows that’s the only thing he will lock into at a level I can feel secure enough to walk away from for the time it takes to get my daughter down. Phew, she’s down.. finally. Now time to go get him, take him upstairs, read him a story, sing him three lullabies and lay him down. Woof, we did it. Am I hungry? Shit. It’s already 8:15 PM. I could just go to bed, I’m certainly exhausted enough. Set the alarm. Lay down. Pray no one wakes up until 7 AM. Blink. There’s the alarm. Repeat.
Not one of those moments was carved out for myself specifically. I scrounge trying to find just one moment where I don’t feel demanded by my children, my job or my spouse. I feel like my world is revolving around meeting the demands of others and what’s worse, I feel guilt thinking of the imposition my needs will inflict on them. I’m not so naive to think that I am the only person in the world who feels this way. My wish is that it was talked about so openly that people felt like they had a sure fire plan to implement so that they never had to feel alone. That healthy boundaries were talked about more regularly on the platforms we use. The only person to blame for my dissatisfaction and feelings of loss is me. I wasn’t raised with conversations about how to prioritize myself and setting healthy boundaries. It is something I am only now learning after trial by fire. My feeling of not belonging and imposition is simply the reflection of how I am viewing myself and the lack of priority I have toward myself.
Awareness is the first step, right? Next comes action. I often feel overwhelmed on my journey back to “self”. I feel like I should be able to snap my fingers and VIOLA, pop back into the identity of my memories. But then I am humbled and take a step back. I am just learning to carve out the time to find myself and be kind to myself again. Let alone learn what this body and mind find stimulating anymore. I scheduled a personal day from work recently and made a rule: no kids, no work and no chores. During this time I sat in a local coffee shop and had a profound thought; This feeling may never go away. We are ever evolving and things outside of us are always changing. Even people who haven’t walked the same path in motherhood as myself are having to continue to search for themselves. Knowing this is comforting to me. It provides me with solace knowing that I am not alone. Despite the various roads we are all traveling, we are all connected. Now it is time to get comfortable with the seasons of change.
