Skip to main content

Who am I?

 


I’ve read that it’s common to lose yourself in motherhood, but I reckon it’s more of a falling, a grieving, an insatiable longing to be someone again, beyond the sameness and fatigue of the everyday.

Where do we go, exactly? Our babies arrive earthside and our entire lives and turned upside down, shaken about, and then tossed away. What was once normal is now a never, or a possibility with great difficultly. Who we once were is overrun with our bodies doing berserk stuff and starting a 24/7 job with no pay, no recognition, and no breaks.

I think we just stop being seen. Not even by other people, or by our lovely little babies, but quite possibility by ourselves.

We lose who we once were because there is no room for her anymore. She is drowned out, deemed non-essential, cast aside into a net that only nostalgia can drag in.

We wouldn’t change being mothers for the world, obviously. But we are deep in mourning too, in remembering that we used to be someone beyond one little person’s everything. And an unglamorous everything at that.

Lately I’ve found myself missing my past life. It wasn’t particularly special or exciting. It really was very ordinary. I went to university, I spent time with friends, I had a part-time job. All the regular things that don’t stand out as being important when you’re in them. I spent my whole last semester (while pregnant) mapping out invasive vegetation on local sand dunes using GIS software. Now, I don’t even remember what I learnt in my degree. I used to spend nights and weekends serving popcorn, cleaning cinemas, and making nice coffee at my part-time job. It was your run-of-the-mill customer service role where your coworkers were fun and the customers were occasionally abusive, but I miss it. I really do. To be seen outside my own home, to be contributing financially, to have fun despite cleaning the bins and dealing with Karens. It was nice in a way I couldn’t appreciate at the time. 

I’m looking forward to being someone again, someday. Probably after our next baby has arrived and they’ve grown up a bit too. Maybe then I’ll be able to rebuild some sort of identity beyond these four walls and beyond these long nights. 

To my fellow mamas: I see you.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It gets easier (yes, yes it does).

Last night I had the privilege of reading this post by Emily Writes; a favourite author, advocate, and rebel of mine. And my goodness, her words rang true! When our toddler was about 6 weeks old, we were at one of our first Space sessions where lo and behold she screamed for most of the time. I was trying to hold back the tears as I watched all of my mum friends with their happy babies, seemingly having it all together and knowing what they were doing. I didn’t know why my baby screamed so much and why nothing I did would settle her. After cursing myself for leaving the house and swearing to never go back, I started talking to one of the session coordinators. She told me that she had four kids, much to my absolute horror in that moment. I had no idea how it was even humanly possible to cope with one child, let alone four! I felt as though I would be stuck beneath these tidal waves of desperation and drowning and just wanting it all to end, forever. I asked her how she did it, you know...
2 comments
Read more

Hand, foot, and mouth: an essay on depression during motherhood.

  “Ahh” the doctor said knowingly, as he peered into her mouth. “Looks like hand, foot, and mouth to me,” he then explained while examining her toes. “You’ll need to keep her home and away from everyone.” he concluded, handing me a prescription for more pamol with the cautious warning, “you’ll need it.” I used to think hand, foot, and mouth was something that only plagued unlucky sheep. However, toddlerhood has shown me that if there's a gross bug to catch, they will catch it. They just seem to lick everything in sight. This prognosis of having our usual routine disrupted made me feel a bit all over the place. // I feel dull. And dulled. Each day that stretches before me yawns, gaping, open, an unfathomable expanse of wondering how I’ll possibly cope. The clawing anxiety sets in too - if these days are long and heavy right now, how much more will they swell and expand in a few months time when my second baby arrives? Am I meant to feel this way? Maybe this is the united, fearful st...
3 comments
Read more

“Do you research” does not mean reading Facebook.

 Most days I come across yet another person I follow on Instagram having fallen deep deep into the whole anti-vaxx, anti-lockdown, scamdemic thing. And I’m just like you too mate? Yet another one bites the dust?  They all seem to have a few things in common. Largeish followings. White. Wealthy. Everyone close to them is healthy. Job title: influencer.  I can’t even with these people. They both shock me and appal me. And I just feel like they’re growing in number each day. Let’s just say I’ve been pressing the unfollow button a lot lately. Sometimes though I go back to visit their page a while later, just to see how deep down the fake rabbit hole they’ve fallen.  Wakeful babies give you plenty of time to scroll. I think it’s the shock value that makes me want to look again.  And each time I’m even more shocked and grossed out by their sheer lack of common sense alongside their cruelty towards literally anyone who isn’t them. So many of them have escalated beyond ...
Post a Comment
Read more