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November 11, 2016

The dark side of motherhood – I see you

November 11, 2016
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I wrote this blog post after feeling very resentful about having my work pushed to the bottom of the list (sigh, again) and shuffling into my role as mother and housewife. I was so desperate to hear my husband say he got it, he understood, he felt my pain, he knew how amazing I was, he couldn’t believe how I do it all, he was in awe of my greatness, my warrior, my goddess, my fucking incredible-ness.

Pause.

Can you guess where this goes? He didn’t say any of it. And as I walked out into the night to clear my head, I all of a sudden realized that only women can see ourselves in the way we need to be seen….can hear ourselves in the way we yearn to be heard.

So, to myself and to all the other moms out there…this is my ode to you. I see you, I hear you, I am you.

To every time you’ve thrown something, smacked something, broke something with your rage and felt ashamed, out of control and overwhelmed, I see you.

For every time you’ve been doing dishes while your husband is having a shower, I see you.

For every time you made the effort to cook something healthy and no-one at the table ate it, I see you.

For every time you thought, I just can’t do it all, I see you.

For every single time you wanted to hear “I see you, I hear what you are saying, I think you are amazing, I can’t believe how much you do, you are incredible” from your partner’s mouth and it never came, I see you.

For every time you just felt very sad and very alone, I see you.

For every time someone asked how you were doing and you really wanted to say I think I’m falling apart but you said ‘fine” instead, I see you.

For every time you looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize that lifeless, glowless, tired face, I see you.

For every time you stayed up late to work, woke up early to work, worked with a baby crying, worked with children calling your name, for every time you worked exhausted, sick and overwhelmed, I see you.

For every time you crawled out of bed, feeling unable to face another day but doing it anyway, I see you.

For every day you felt that bonedrenched exhaustion and thought you would fall over and you didn’t…I see you.

For every time you looked at your children and resented them, I see you.

For every time your career fell to the bottom of the heap, when you did your work in the bathroom, in the early hours of the morning, grabbing a few minutes here and there and trying to build something magical in 15-minute timeslots, I see you.

For every weekend filled with laundry and errands, I see you.
For every time you thought, I just want to be by myself, I see you.
For every time you went shopping for clothes and came home feeling like shit because your new body doesn’t fit anything it used to and it’s too tired to work well, I see you.

For every moment you dreamed of reclaiming your ass, your sass, your enthusiasm and your wildness, I see you.

For every time you didn’t think you could stop crying. Or get up off the floor. Or breathe. Or function. Or be responsible for anyone, anymore, I see you.

For every time you felt so angry because all of this feels so unfair. For every time you felt lied to….because no-one told you it would be like this, I see you.

I see you. I hear you. Every time, I see you.

Let’s not do this alone.

Let’s see each other. Not just in the sunshine and the good times and the easy days and the surface talk but in the hardness, the sadness, the overwhelm, the shadows.

You are amazing. You are a miracle. Sacred. Divine. And you deserve to have your family throw you a party every weekend with balloons, cake and presents just to celebrate how amazing you are.

I see you. I hear you. I am you.

Please share this with a mother who might be feeling alone right now…let her know that she is seen and heard.

In the comments below, I’d love to know your thoughts on the dark side of motherhood.

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3 comments

  1. for everytime you broke something with your rage and felt ashamed, out of control and overwhelmed. I see you. I see you too. thanks for this.

  2. Yes, to resentment. And to our careers feeling too low on the list.
    And yes, to ass and sass and reclaiming juiciness.
    And yes, to helping each other feel seen and heard and less alone.
    Thanks, Sophie!

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