I exploded yesterday.
Mark asked me what was wrong, and I exploded.
Everything. Everything is wrong.
Listen, I am a trooper, okay? I'm a Black woman; perseverance is built into my DNA. I founded a non-profit based on being courage and resilience for Christ's sake. But I have my limits. Hustle culture is toxic af and recognizing that during quarantine was one of the best gifts I could've given myself because it allowed me to begin unlearning the propaganda I've been fed as a millennial wellness professional. I'm sure you're familiar with the greatest hits: "no days off", disguising eating disorders as "eating clean", and being proud of how little we sleep.
Yet, motherhood (read: mommy culture) teaches me that I'm supposed to basically martyr myself. Aka hustle 'til I'm weak and weary; beginning with losing the pregnancy weight as soon as possible, then getting back to work as soon as possible (because paid leave in this country is horrendous) and finally, competing with other moms! Because even though there's never a time where you'll feel as vulnerable and insecure as postpartum, you still muster enough energy to be a judgy mean girl. (Or is it just me?)
And therein lies the crux of the modern mom problem. I was fed this lie- maybe you know it? Something about needing to "do it all" or "have it all"? But what if I don't want to?
What if I think that the game we're playing- the one where we do our best to look like we have our shit together- is a stupid game? What if I wanted to just be present for whatever shows up and learn how to be the best version of myself regardless?
I've been sitting with a lot of thoughts recently. Some make me rage and some make me weep, but all live rent-free in my brain.
17 weeks into motherhood, and my takeaways are:
America needs to invest in families and mothers. Period.
It's hard to divest from capitalism when you want access for your child.
I was not prepared to love my postpartum body, but I'm figuring it out.
I was not prepared to have a c-section, but I'm figuring it out.
If I spent less time on social media I would probably be happier.
If I spent less time on social media, I would miss out on a lot, too.
Mommy friends should be chosen wisely.
Mommy friends will fiercely protect you.
If its not a hell yes, its a no.
No is a complete sentence.
If I ask for help, I really need help.
I really do appreciate being shown grace, especially now.
If I ask for space, I'm trying to come back to myself.
If I say I'm happy, I really am.
If I don't respond to a text or call or email, I probably forgot.
I actually don't care if my son wakes up to nurse. It's not that big of a deal to me.
Racism runs deep into the maternal health space. Deeper than I imagined.
I cannot believe we're still debating abortion, are you fucking kidding me?
The cost of being a mother is the highest price I've ever paid for anything.
I'm committed to my growth.
I believe it's all worth it.