Balance

I hesitated for a considerable time before sharing my first post. I wondered if it made me seem miserable. I wasn’t sure if my honesty might be misinterpreted as unhappiness. I was also concerned that I might be crossing a line in terms of the sanctity of our family life. I share a lot on social media, Instagram in particular, but I have always been very mindful not to post anything that I think could upset or humiliate my children later. I asked myself: what would they think if they read this?

Would they worry that they weren’t enough?

As I said in my first post, these reflections on my life, and my confusion as to my identity presently, don’t stem from feelings of sadness or regret. So why the need to (over)share them now?

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Where to start

I feel like I want to start a blog, but I’m not sure exactly why. Perhaps I’d just like to start a conversation; have a chat. I know there are so many blogs out there. What would make mine different? Me, I suppose. There’s only one of me.

I recently read an article in the Guardian about mothers who regret becoming mothers: one of the final taboos.

The article quotes Sarah Fischer, who writes, “The reality of motherhood… is incontinence, boredom, weight gain, saggy breasts, depression, the end of romance, lack of sleep, dumbing down, career downturn, loss of sex drive, poverty, exhaustion and lack of fulfilment… [The father] fall[s] in love with an independent career woman who turns into a cook-clean-bake mummy; or suddenly only wants to talk about the children; or becomes depressive; or ignores you.” Whereas, she says, “when a mother is born, the person she used to be is left by the wayside”.

It hurt to read this. I adore being a mother and I absolutely do not regret it. But this does ring true.

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