“I’m a mom,” I said as a shiver ran down my spine.
I’d resisted that title for as long as I could remember even though every part of me loved the role.
When suddenly it hit me like a ton of bricks, I didn’t want to be just a mom because my perceived value is so much more if I’m a working mom, a business owner, or when I’m doing too many things at once. Just to be present as a mom, a role that I chose for myself, one that fills my heart to the brim, could never be good enough when you compare it with the value society tells me I have when I work. After all, a women only has a space at the table as long as her looks, sex, or work satisfy another.
All of these years spent working on my self-worth and trusting in my intrinsic value, yet this patriarchal conditioning runs so deep that I rejected what I love most in my life for the sake of sitting in front of my computer in hopes to feel that I’m worth something. As a maiden I declared “I’m building a business so one day I can be present with my kids,” yet when the kids came that was no longer enough.
My heart was happy but my mind couldn’t rationalize telling someone I was a mom, just a mom. I needed more, they needed to know that I was powerful, that I was valuable, that I had things to share with the world. As if directing my power, impact, and love towards those closest to my heart was somehow not as valuable as when it’s a stranger. As if being told I’m loved and worthy by those who know me the best falls upon deaf ears when I could be validated by a follower count.
The workings of the conditioned mind still shocks me at times, but every time I allow myself just to love, be, and accept that this is the life I always wanted, I strip back it’s hold on my happiness and release a little more pressure.