I Don't Recognize Her...
I Don't Recognize Her...
& Other Thoughts On Motherhood 6 Years In
My oldest turned 6 this week, and it feels wild to even write that down. Because I look at her, tall, intelligent, chatty self, and can’t believe that that blob became a whole person right before my eyes.
Each year, I tell my kiddos the story of their birth, on their birthday. I leave out the gory details, but I tell them about the lead up - what we did in the days before… who we saw, what we ate… How the week led into the hospital, and then how the birth went (it helps for differentiating - I’ve had 3 wildly different birth experiences, in 3 different hospitals). So this week, I layed with my oldest, scratched her back, and told her the story of that week…
I told her about the date night tacos the night before my scheduled c-section, at our favorite local restaurant
I made her laugh about how her dad got a Starbucks coffee and a blueberry muffin (HER FAVORITE!) that morning while I was in pre-op
I told her about the immediate relief and the physical release of anxiety I felt when they placed her on my chest
And the part she asks me to repeat 10x… I tell her about how I cried I was so happy because she was finally here… in the flesh, and safe in my arms
But to be honest, I noticed something new this year in telling the story of her birth. More than not recognizing her, I don’t recognize the me that held her in my arms that first day: I was terrified, unsure of myself, and naive to all that recovery, postpartum, and parenting would hold. But I’m not that way anymore. I really don’t recognize that sweet, well intentioned, but overwhelmed version of myself.
Sometimes we can blaze through life, jumping from one life stage to the next. Full days and lives means there is always someone to worry about, and another to-do to add to your list, and it can keep you from noticing that type of growth - the kind where you don’t recognize yourself in a good way. Where you feel a sense of accomplishment because you’ve changed for the better, and the years meant something good.
A few years ago, a podcaster I love was talking about the benefit she feels from going to therapy once every month, 10 years in. She shared that initially, she went weekly, or biweekly, and there came a time where therapy could have naturally ended, but instead she kept it on her calendar and in her budget because “growth deserves a witness”.
I had the privilege of being that witness for several of my clients this week, and it’s a really powerful thing on both ends: to have someone look you in the eye, telling you how you’ve evolved, and to be the one looking someone in the eye, telling them what you’ve watched them survive and how proud you are of who they’ve become.
And the truth is, while therapy is an ideal relationship for this kind of witness, it’s available in many different forms. Maybe your partner is that person for you, or your mom. Maybe you can pick up the phone and call your sister, or your college roommate. Maybe it's the neighbor who has only known you for a little while, but those years are starting to amount to something bigger.
Whoever it is for you, your growth deserves a witness.
Challenge
This week, I want you to reflect on relationships you have and choose:
1 person to ask about the ways they’ve seen you grow
1 person to affirm about their evolution
Admittedly, it can feel awkward. It’s not just you… you know your relationships better than I do, but for those who it might be more of a stretch to get on this kind of a conversation wave, or where it feels forced, like you are asking for praise. I have recommendations…
Be More Specific:
In what ways have you witnessed me grow for the better in the way I relate to _____________ (a relationship, an anxiety, a fear, etc.)?
What are some ways you see me excel in parenting? Are there things that are hard for you, that you see me doing well?
How have you seen me grow as a __________ (professional, friend, neighbor, daughter, etc.)?
Are there things you love about me now that didn’t exist when you met me?
Send Them This Post
I invite therapy clients to blame me ALL THE TIME :) You can send them this post and say “hey… I really want to do this. How does tonight sound?”.
Make It About You
People feel awkward when they are doing something new. It’s protective for our brains to avoid new things, so if your person has an allergic reaction to this sort of thing, offer a soft start like this, “I’m having a hard week, and could really use some support to turn it around. Would you mind answering this question?” When someone perceives themselves as helping someone they love, they are less likely to get self conscious about “doing it wrong”.
