My Story
I became a first time mom to twins at 34.
It. Rocked. My. World.
As I waded through the ups and downs of this somehow simultaneously beautiful and excruciating transition, everywhere I turned the advice and support I received fell completely flat. Of course, everyone meant well, but no one (and I mean, literally, no one ) could reflect or explain to me the depth and range of what I was experiencing.
This went on for years. I kept running into one of three narratives:
- …that early motherhood was hard and that's just how it is and to just be grateful,
- …that motherhood breaks you down and you have to "heal" and "rebuild" from the experience,
- …or that I should just forget about myself and pour a glass of wine, and then another one, because my life belongs to the kids now.
Yes, early motherhood it was hard af. But I felt there was a tremendous spiritual gift behind the difficulty. I didn't feel broken down, I felt broken open. I felt like an insanely powerful wave of superdimensional energy was constantly moving through me. It was moving me.
Furthermore, I didn't want to forget about my old life...those twelve years of freely exploring reality and adventuring the world. I wanted to weave those experiences into my current reality and use them as a foundation to create a magnificent life for my family.
The process of portaling two souls into the world gave me an incredible amount of energy and drive, but I didn't have the slightest clue how to use it.
So it festered, it backfired, it exploded. I was anxious, I was angry, I was restless. I felt like a wild animal trapped in a cage. But the cage wasn't motherhood. It was the painfully two-dimensional and narrow definition of motherhood that the whole world around me was offering.
