Everyone told me I was lucky
But I was drowning
When I had the twins, everyone told me how lucky I was. And I was! I was DELIGHTED to be their mom. What all the well meaning people usually didn't know was I'd been fired while on maternity leave from a job that gave me lots of purpose, my husband was working 100-hour weeks in residency, and our family support was hundreds of miles away. Most days it was just me and two babies applying for jobs while trying to keep everyone alive. A piece of me felt dead. Very dead. I struggled hard until they were about three, and I almost never asked for help. How do you admit you're drowning when everyone keeps congratulating you on your good fortune?
I've been thinking about that version of me a lot lately, because so many of the women I work with are standing in the same doorway. Some are coming back from maternity leave. Some just walked away from a job, a relationship, or the religion they were raised in. Whatever the exit, the old self doesn't fit anymore and the new one hasn't fully shown up yet. When mine finally arrived, she was spicier and more resilient than the woman I'd lost. She was also really weird to be. I kept waiting for the freedom and clarity everyone talks about. Instead, I felt like I was wearing a clunky mascot costume and couldn't find the eye holes.
So if you're in the costume right now, I want you to hear this: clunky is normal. Awkward is part of the process. Over time I learned to lean into my own evolving, and I also learned that (for me, maybe not for you) it takes about 68 times longer than I want it to. That's just how it goes. Ask for help, even if your life looks lucky from the outside. Give yourself permission to bump into a few walls. Keep walking around in her until she starts to feel like home. One day you'll catch your reflection and recognize the woman looking back, and I promise she's worth the wait.
Rooting for you!
~ Celeste