A Personal Note To All The Mommies Out There In Recovery

I have been many kinds of mommies.

I have been the mommy that tries so hard to fit into the perfect mold of what a “mommy” should look like that I place myself last. All the time. 

I’ve also been the mommy that fills everyone else’s plates while starves herself. Both figuratively AND literally.

And I’ve been the mommy that’s so tired to the bone but drags herself out of bed to sooth a crying child when she wants to hide under the covers. And I’ve been the mommy that actually does hide under the covers. (But I’ve learned they find you anyway- you may as well just come out.)

I’ve been the mommy getting compliments at how quickly she “got her figure back” after having children. And I’ve been the mommy who saw her reflection actually get larger even though those around her said she was shrinking.

I’ve been the mommy too afraid to say no.

The one who took on way too many responsibilities only to drop the ball left and right. And I have been the mommy who said, “No, I simply can’t do it.”

I’ve been the mommy who makes cute sticker reward sheets for her children hoping to build self esteem and improve behaviors.

And I’ve been the mommy who spent her Sunday night planning meals for an entire week. Then one who silently imagines running away forever while shopping for the ingredients with three ornery little boys.

I’ve been the mommy who happily gathers party ideas on Pinterest and makes countless trips to Michaels. Yes, the mommy that insists all birthday cakes must be baked at home.

I’ve also been the mommy who started each day in a panic and ended each day in tears; feeling like a failure and wishing the time away.

And the mom who needs help too

Thankfully I have also been the mommy who finally, on her knees, found her voice, and asked for help.

I’ve been the mommy who took her recovery into her own hands and prioritized mental, physical, and emotional health. And dared to ask for more. 

I’ve been the mommy who started to use her voice, embrace her imperfections, and find that there is another way.

So, I’m now the mommy who is open to connection, authenticity, and real life.

I have a messy house, an even messier car, and an insane calendar. But today, I fill my plate along side my children’s and I fill my belly as well as my soul.

I carve out time for myself, no matter how small the slot may be. Now, I prioritize balance over perfection and am practicing self compassion as much as I practice empathy. I have a grateful heart and a hopeful spirit.

Today…

Today I am the mommy who has grown out of her postpartum clothing, her pre-pregnancy clothing, and even a lot of her “recovery” clothing.

I’m the mommy who is still searching to love and accept her body, but is no longer willing to compromise its health to fit into society’s standards.

I’m the mommy who wishes to teach her children to accept others for their spirits and hearts, and encourages her sons to make mistakes so they may learn from them.

Now, I’m a mommy who is in recovery and no longer hiding her past. I am a mommy who is thankful to be alive.

I’ve been the mommy who believed her self-worth and identity was based on her role as mommy.

Once upon a time, I was the mommy who cried because dinner was late, her child was rude, or she just couldn’t get the baby to nap no matter how hard she tried.

I’m the mommy who has read all the books, taken all of the classes – and then eventually threw her hands up and dug deep to follow her own wisdom and intuition.

A blessing

I’ve also been the mommy who asked for more. Who took some risks and showed her children that even moms break sometimes and have needs as well.

I have been all kinds of mommies and I can honestly say that when mommy is hungry- both spiritually and literally- everything is harder.

You are a priority not only because you are a mommy, but because you are YOU.

YOU deserve health, to be fed, to be nurtured, and to be a priority. You deserve to be seen and to be heard.

Please put yourself first and allow others to help you. Allow for imperfections, mistakes, and messes.

Embrace your messy chaotic life as fiercely as you embrace your children. Because they are all blessings.

Just like you are a blessing.

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