People have said to me that I’m a good mother. Then there was that one time when someone called me a deadbeat mother. There are the things people say about you and then the things you think about yourself.
I have been a mother for almost 20 years. The role has not always been sunshine and rainbows, but I think that’s the mental weight of what I thought it meant to be a mother.
I know it’s a hard day for a lot of people, so I won’t take up too much space talking about it.But I felt like this was worth putting out there…
Recently, I reached out to Beth, a friend of mine from my days in the vintage resale community. I had just picked up a cuuuuute ’60s-’70s coat from the thrift store, and thought she might be able to provide more insight into it.
As the conversation evolved, we talked about how we are both stepping out of our comfort zones in many ways—that we’ve been feeling this urge to transform and begin again refreshed.
Toward the end of last year, I was on a rollercoaster—a mental, emotional, and physically taxing rollercoaster. While my highs and lows may have been a result of (or at least exacerbated by) my pregnancy hormones, they were still very real. My condition, plus other situational factors, just amplified the issues and wounds that had been festering for awhile.
October was particularly difficult, and I started writing about it in my “october… (pt. one)” post. I had fully intended to publish a “part two,” but at the time, I didn’t have the strength or mental capacity to continue on with it.
I thought I was doing all the right things, and yet the pain kept getting worse.
I pulled some oracle cards on the issue and the messages pointed to setting boundaries, letting go of what no longer serves me, and taking a break from the treadmill of life (AKA be still and be present).
My first AH-HA moment of the day.
It all makes sense. I had already figured that the Universe wanted me to slow down. That’s usually the message when something abruptly puts your life on hold. But I still felt like I needed to KEEP MOVING.
Yesterday, the sun came out for what seemed like the first time in weeks. It melted most (if not all) of the snow around our house. There’s something magical about snow—watching it swirl around in the outside air… and getting excited when it actually sticks to the ground. Even though it’s one of those beautiful miracles of nature, I needed that melt yesterday.
I was never really a big fan of cold weather anyway, and even less so now in my postpartum condition.
I was tired of the grey… tired of cold… just tired. I needed the sun, and the healing energy of its warmth.