We lose ourselves a bit in motherhood.
And I think for most of us, we’re glad to do so. Our children are gifts, and raising them is the most important, meaningful responsibility of our lives. And honestly, those first few years are incredibly challenging.
I had my children eleven months apart. I look back on the years that followed, and see a whirlwind of diapers and milestones. Playdates and playdoh. Screaming, teething babies and sweet, bedtime songs.
I was happy to get lost in the chaos.
But a day came that I emerged from that lavender bath scented bubble, and remembered a few things about myself.
I remembered that words empower me. That I love writing and sharing them.
I remembered that stories made my heart swell, and that I was teeming with them...they’d just been set back on the priority list. I discovered that over the years, I’d changed. And new stories were forming.
It wasn’t easy transitioning to become a WRITER MOM. I struggled with everything from imposter syndrome to guilt...and still do at times. But as I sat at the dining room table one evening, hunched over a legal pad, scratching words at break neck speed...I knew there was no going back. I was transfixed. Finding my voice. A voice I’d suppressed under years of insecurity and exhaustion.
Hear me on this:
We are all given gifts and passions to serve a purpose. It matters that you love to write. It matters that you have something to say. Someone needs to hear the words trapped inside of you. To be a mom is to be a world-changer. ...but it’s okay if you want to do even more.
I believe in you,