Ever since becoming a mother three years ago - for which I'm eternally grateful btw, I have felt myself slipping away in wisps.
I remember a therapist once asking me to list three things I did well, and only being able to respond, "Well, I'm funny." One thing. Out of everything I am, that was all.
Let's be clear, there wasn't much of ME left to begin with. Infertility had take its toll on my person and my sanity until I felt like a shadow of my former self. I remember looking in the mirror and not recognizing myself.
Thinking of myself in the third person. Longing for the woman I used to be. Wondering about that stranger with the sad eyes and the mouth in a perpetual frown. Always on the outside looking in.
But after the birth of my daughter, I felt myself becoming whole again. It was as if all the pain and heartache had been erased, and I smiled more. I didn't see a stranger in the mirror.
Until, one day I realized, I had actually replaced ME with mother. And after years of struggling with the pain and loss of infertility, was that really a bad thing? I am what I have always dreamed of being.
And yet, that small, still, quiet voice within me whispers, "And what of YOU?" And yes, what of ME. The woman I WANT to be.
This summer, as corny and melodramatic and #whitepeopleproblems as it sounds, I want to find myself. I want to feel good in my skin again. I want to focus on me.
And after defining myself as a mother for so long, it feels selfish and indulgent. I feel guilty.
I wonder what it means to find oneself. I can only guess it means something different to everyone. My life is small and wonderful, and I'm not going to find myself backpacking through Europe or trekking through the Himalayas, as exciting and jealousy-inducing as that sounds.
As a teacher, I have the luxury of having two months off. After the obligatory doctor's appointments and home improvement projects, I plan to read and swim and just BE.
At the end of the summer, I hope to have more that three things on my list of Things I Do Well.
