Losing My Self

Recently, I read a blog post addressed to mothers in their 30's. Of course, being a mother in my 30's, I was curious.

The author wrote about how we 30-some-year-old moms give each other meaningful looks and knowing smiles. We see women in their 20's and remember the "self" we lost, but look forward to the "self" we will get back in our 40's.

I'll just say it outright– I didn't like the article. 

I don't believe that motherhood is like doing time– 18 years and you're done. Then what? Go back to living life like before? I certainly don't want to go back to the life and the "self" I was before children.

That person was patient as long as she had her way. She spent too much time in front of the mirror. She loved attention and was ambitious for her own end. She thought she was great, when really, she was blessed. She took time, health, and a good night's sleep for granted. And she had no real understanding, and therefore almost no empathy, for parents. 

These "mom" years are not a detour on my journey through life. I certainly don't see my 30's as a lost decade. By not constantly looking back, I've allowed motherhood to change me; the stretch marks, dark circles, and white hairs are only the outward signs of that change. "Mom" is a badge of honor I wear with pride, a facet in my jewel, a PhD on my "résumé of life". And if that equates to "losing my self", then I want to lose my self for as long as I have breathe.