Today, I had the opportunity to go to the library by myself. I packed my laptop, books, phone and earphones. I walked out the front door and made my way to the bus top. It was such a glorious day. The sun was out and the blue sky made me feel limitless. Me and the sun, we just have a thing, you know.
As I sat on that bus, I saw my reflection in the window. And the funny thing was, I didn't recognize myself. I didn't have a heavy bag full of diapers, wipes and snacks. I wasn't pushing a stroller. I had no one bothering me. It was just me sitting there, starring at the window, glinting from the sun shining through. I realized that this simple moment made me feel like a normal person. A normal person having a normal day, listening to music while taking the bus to the library. As though being a mom made me a complete stranger to myself. I felt like me (or who I used to be) today. I felt empowered to be just me. I sat in the library uninterrupted for a few hours. And it was like a mini vacation, I tell you!
Let me just explain myself. The day I became a mom was the day I lost a little bit of myself and found it in these tiny little people. It's sad but that's the truth. And I don't think I'll ever get that piece of me back. I'll never be the same again. But that isn't necessarily a bad thing. Mothers tend to lose themselves in their families. It is both selfless and selfish. And it is inevitable. Mothers are creatures of love. It doesn't show the right way all the time, but moms can't help but love. It's just our thing, you know.
After two years of this mothering business, I find it hard to be just me. I don't know what to do when the kids aren't with me. I forgot who I used to be. But that isn't my problem, I don't want to be who I was. I want to be who I am - the person I was meant to be now. And right now, I am mama to these boys. I am the wawa-kisser, mess-cleaner, food-maker, sleep-rocker, body guard, cheer leader - the safest place they know. They need me during these years and sometimes more than they should. But maybe the next few years, not so much anymore. I'll just find myself in an empty house at nine in the morning wondering what to clean next.
This stranger that appears to be me seems like she isn't going anywhere. I'll just have to understand how this all works and work through it. It isn't easy. But it looks like I'm gonna have the time of my life. So hello there stranger, what's your name again?