oh HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. It’s been a mere 4 months since I last wrote on this thing and mama is feeling… TOO MUCH.
Sentences are uhhhh pretty tough for me to formulate right now, so you’re getting a C/C+ effort at BEST. Sorry boo! But I really have missed writing to process my emotions, so I’m just feeling my impulsive ADHD self and going! for! it!
This post is dedicated to anyone who is going THROUGH it right now, and still, despite it all, taking a (DAILY) multivitamin, showing up for therapy, and sending text responses within the 5 day *my B, I was depressed when you first wrote but now I’m all better, maybe?* grace period.
Since I’m bad with transitions, I’m just going to start this reflection in the middle. Something I’ve been struggling with a LOT lately is dreaming up an ideal future for myself in my new identity as a mom. One of my favorite procrastination activities is daydreaming and it’s like the screen has been fuzzy in my mind for the past 9 months. Okay wow that’s like, really sad, when I read it back to myself, but it’s kind of true. I think part of the problem is the representations of motherhood out there are just kind of…. basic? un-sexy? frumpy? one-dimensional? boring? I’m so sorry, I feel like this is coming across very judgmental, and I really don’t mean it that way. But it’s been something I’ve struggled with as I start to navigate the terrains of making mom friends (a post for another time) and as I think about the type of mom I want to be.
Someone please tell me why, in 2022, does it feel like the dominating narrative of motherhood is being martyrdom?
I recently googled “what is the opposite of martyrdom?” and here is what these two pigeons in hats taught me:
The opposite of martyrdom is: happiness, contentment, joy, satisfaction, health, relief, comfort, pleasure, ecstasy, bliss. I WANT THAT!!!!!! Where do I get that type of motherhood experience?!? And this is not to bypass how much work it takes to be a mother - never. My body, brain, spirit, soul and hairline will never be the same since giving birth to my son. But why does all this loss I’m experiencing have to be the main plot line? I’m really asking myself these questions right now. I feel like I am constantly in complaining mode when it comes to motherhood - and others expect it of me as well. Yes, this shit is VERY hard. But can’t it be fun, too? I realize I ask that question with a ton of privilege and resources at my disposal, but when I say fun, I really don’t even mean opulent fun. I mean, looking in the mirror and feeling like a BAD BITCH for what this body has done, fun.
I mean pumping while wearing a wig…fun. Getting a trusted person to babysit and going out for a date…fun. Putting the baby down for the night and having a bolognese dinner party downstairs… fun. Feeling hot and confident…. fun. Going out of town for 24 hours with people my own age…fun. Walking down the street, with baby strapped to the carrier, while blasting Lauryn Hill…fun. Having a full conversation with a peer without talking about any of the hardships of parenting…. fun. Trusting that the baby will be just fine without me…fun. Having motherhood be a part (but not the whole) of my many facets of self… FUN!
Earlier this month, Sam stayed home with Wes for the night and I went to the Elton John Goodbye Yellow Brick Road Farewell Tour at Nats Stadium with my sisters and my Dad. My Dad is a huge Elton John stan (figured out there’s actually a major subgroup of white, hetero Jewish men who love Elton… you go ahead and process that info however you see fitting). Anyways, at one point I was standing in line for the bathroom, sweaty in my sequined shirt, starting to feel that pesky guilt fly buzzing around my head, shitting on my fun with pings of Wes and Sam at home without me. Naturally, I started scrolling through photos of Wes on my phone to make myself feel better (worse). A woman in front of me, about five white claws deep gazed at my phone and slurred, “omg, is that your baby? He’s so cute!” We got to talking for a minute, she was a mother of three boys, all older and out of the house now.
“Here’s the thing no one tells you,” wise white claw lady said,
“You don’t have to love being a mother all the time. No one does. But no matter what, always find ways to love yourself. That’s the REAL challenge of motherhood, and it’s the most important part of the job.”
I’m still very much figuring this all out as I go along, but leaning on MILFS, self-love and Elton John to guide the way.
this bitch is BACK,
xx Jesse
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