All the Mothers I Have Been

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I have been that mom—the one who is entirely present, pouring love and attention into every fleeting moment of motherhood. I’ve experienced the joy of cherishing each second, wishing time would stand still. I have embodied her, the mother I aspire to be for my children every single day.

Yet, I’ve also been the mother overwhelmed by constant questions, incessant crying, and an avalanche of messes. I’ve felt so exhausted that I thought I might shatter into pieces. I have walked in her shoes too, every single step.

There have been nights when I sped away from home, feeling claustrophobic in my own space, desperate for a breath of fresh air. Conversely, there are times when all I wanted was to stay in, embracing the delightful chaos of family life. I have spent hours patiently assisting my child with homework, holding on to my composure and a smile. Yet, I’ve also snapped a pencil in frustration just minutes into the task.

I have shown up on time, dressed to impress, hair styled just right. And then there are the days I arrive late, clad in workout clothes, feeling disheveled and frazzled. I have eagerly anticipated bedtime, yearning for the quiet, but also missed my kids so much during their school hours that it hurt.

There have been moments when I felt I could clean the entire house with one hand tied behind my back. Yet, I’ve also felt depleted, my energy reserves fully drained once again. I’ve crafted organic meals from scratch, only to later serve chicken nuggets and chips in front of the TV.

I have marveled at my precious children, feeling like the luckiest woman alive, but I’ve also ignored them out of sheer exasperation. I’ve gracefully navigated tough situations, yet lain awake at night, consumed by worry, doubting my capabilities as a mother.

I’ve received compliments in restaurants for my kids’ good behavior, but I’ve also had to remove screaming children from public places. I’ve screamed—not just yelled, but genuinely screamed in frustration. Yet, amidst it all, I have managed to hold it together, even when I felt like I was about to crumble.

You might have seen me during my better days and thought I had everything under control. Or perhaps you’ve witnessed some of my less-than-perfect moments and labeled me a mess. Ultimately, it’s not about how others perceive me; it’s about how I view myself.

I see a reflection of my journey in all mothers, those thriving and those struggling. A single moment or day doesn’t define our identities as mothers. At various points, many of us embody all these different versions—those beautiful, complex mothers. This is the essence of motherhood.

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In summary, we celebrate the diverse experiences of motherhood, understanding that every mother, regardless of her challenges or triumphs, plays a vital role in this journey.


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