Somewhere in Motherhood

June 2026

I love being a mother.

But sometimes I miss myself.

I miss the version of me who could decide to do something simply because I wanted to. The woman who had time to think, create, rest, leave the house, or do absolutely nothing without first considering what everyone else needed.

For a long time, I felt guilty even thinking that.

Because I chose motherhood. I wanted my children. I love them more than I knew I could love another person. So how could I possibly admit that sometimes I miss the life I had before them?

I’m beginning to understand that those feelings do not cancel each other out.

I can be grateful for the woman I have become and still grieve pieces of the woman I used to be.

Maybe motherhood is not supposed to erase her.

Maybe I am allowed to find her again.

— Anonymous, 35