I Am Actually Enjoying Motherhood

In the earlier days of motherhood, really the first two years, I was telling myself there was no room for me. Maybe I wasn’t consciously saying that out loud, but I certainly felt that way. I would resent my husband so hard when he freely took time and space for him. He would just… do something for himself midday while I was with the kids... and I was appalled by the audacity. I was furious. How could you possibly choose yourself when I am over here suffering?

Now, when I look back, I can see why I was making him the enemy. Why I was making my suffering his responsibility. Why I was making it his fault. Why I was believing it when I said, well, he’s just freely taking all of this time, so that’s taking from me. Because I truly believed in this idea that if we, as parents, take time for ourselves, away from the kids, away from the daily responsibilities, it’s subtracting from the overall well-being of the tribe.

I’ve only recently realized it’s the opposite: Taking care of yourself allows you to arrive back home with a greater capacity to hold that tribe, to love that tribe, and to support that tribe. And further, to feel connected to yourself within the tribe.

But when I say it, it feels strange in my mouth. I can wrap my head around the concept and I can feel that it’s true. I can hear someone say, “fill your cup up, first!” and nod along to the notion. But to really do it? It’s taken me forcing myself until it felt natural. To now wholeheartedly believe it.

When I came on to Substack and started writing, I was sharing from a place of not feeling resourced, of not feeling like I had it in me. There’s an article I wrote — Projectors Aren’t Designed to Be Parents — still the most popular article I’ve written to this day. And when I read that back, I can see myself suffering inside of motherhood. Because I wasn’t yet giving myself the outlet I needed to process what was happening. That was one of the first times I really started processing out loud again, letting myself be seen and heard, investing in my own well-being.

I can see my pain in that article. I can see the suffering I was experiencing. Even the bypassing I was doing, in the name of ‘Projector energetics.’ And I think it’s interesting that it’s the one people resonate with most… which makes me wonder how many of us, mothers, Projectors maybe more specifically, are stepping back and really considering whether we are mothering in a way that’s supportive to our energy. Whether we are creating a setup that works for us— not just the generic formula that “works” for everyone else, but one that revolves around us, as unique individuals.

That delineation hard. Especially as a new mom. Personally, I needed some years under my belt before I could really gain my footing again and ask myself: Is this working? And do I even have a choice?

And although I think it’s great that so many people have resonated with what I was experiencing inside of that story, a part of me breaks with that recognition. Because I know how I felt in that moment. And I know first hand how it feels when motherhood is swallowing you whole.

And the truth is… I don’t resonate with that story now the way I did then. Because then, I wasn’t yet pouring back into myself. So I had no capacity saved up in the bank for when days like that came along.

I know my wellness prescription is not going to be the same as yours. But what I’m curious about, for other Projector moms, or just moms in general who feel like they’re drowning is: Are you selling yourself out inside of the idea of what the “right” setup looks like? Are you operating day-to-day in a way you think is best for everyone, when in reality, if you look deep within, you don’t even know this version of yourself inside everything you’ve created?

When I first started sharing on Substack, I was sharing from this really vulnerable, heartfelt place of: I’m a depleted, struggling, suffering mother. Anyone else? With an undertone of, is this just the way it is? Is this really the way it has to be? And there’s camaraderie inside of those questions for sure. There’s a resonance you find with other moms when you say the hard things out loud.

But lately I’ve felt the opposite of all of those things: depleted, struggling, suffering. I've actually felt really steady. Really grounded. Really resourced. Really energized. Really, truly, deeply… myself.

And the one thing that I've changed is looking at motherhood as a space that I get to thrive within, versus looking at it as a sacrifice. Deciding that I'm not a victim to my kids' needs, societies ideations, the slew of inevitable emotional rollercoasters. All of these things I didn't have the capacity for because I was not taking care of myself per my unique wellness prescription. Which for me is sharing myself, sharing my voice. Taking some time to get it out, even if it doesn't go anywhere. Processing with my words, processing inside my writing, so that when my child is having a hard time, I'm not coming in hot, clouded by my own unprocessed stuff.

When I’m processing on my own, and then I'm faced with my child's emotions, demands, or needs, I have a greater capacity to hold them, and tend to them.

Do I fit in if I admit that I’m having a great time inside motherhood? That I’m finding it to be almost eerily easy tight now?

Since I’ve found a flow again, since I’m giving myself this permission, and since I’m fiercely taking back time and space for me, I feel like I’m not relatable anymore. In just a couple of months of shifting into this space, I don’t relate to a lot of the common sentiments about motherhood anymore.

And I’m not going to lie, I’ve felt this pressure of, wow, that article did so well. I almost want to have a really hard day again so I can write about it. But I haven’t had one of those days. Not since I started showing up for me again.

And actually, there have been many days that on paper, measure up to that one. I’m just being a different person inside of them right now. In my role as mom, I’m actually doing more. I’m taking on more responsibility with my kids and around the house. I’m showing up for my husband with so much more right now. And it’s only because I’m actually showing up for myself too.

I almost want it to be more complicated than that. I almost want to say, here's the super complicated breakdown, here's the super secret magic formula. But it's actually so simple. So simple it feels like a cheat code. And the more I step into that part of myself, the more I realize, this is just who I am when I'm actually taking care of myself. That depleted version of me is the one I have compassion for, but I don't know her right now.

For me, a big part of getting that space, taking that space, was being vulnerable. Being honest. Especially with my husband. Telling him: I’m drowning inside of this life that I’m supposed to love. And I feel like I’m missing out on these precious years that one day I’m going to look back on and say, I missed it all. I missed it all because I was so set on the idea that I had to just get through it, just survive it… and I ended up missing it all.

And I don’t want to feel that way about my life. All because I’m running from myself and my real needs and my real wants because I’m telling myself there’s no room for me in this phase of life. All because I’m telling myself the same story I keep hearing echoed: it’s not time for you, mom. There’s no space for you, mom. You are the sacrificing mother, and that’s your noble duty in this season.

I don’t buy that story anymore.

Some days will feel harder than others. There are emotional waves, full moons, molars, developmental leaps. You never know what you're walking into. But what I've noticed is that when I wake up with a me-focused lens—even when I'm thrown into responding the second I blink open my eyes—the day feels so different. And from that place, I've started questioning the things I used to just accept: the schedules, the societal pressures, the agreements I made without asking whether they actually work for us.

How do I want this day to go?

Most days I’m going to take the easier route. The scenic route. Slow down. Spend a little extra time just hanging out this morning. Sometimes I really just want to get out the door and do something. But it’s listening to myself, every single day, and letting each day be different. Creating space between our wants and my mind’s ideas about all the things I think my kids need to do, or all the things I think I need to do for my kids.

Because what I’ve noticed is that when I create that space between myself and my children, I’m creating space for them to relax into themselves too. Because after all, they are their own people. And that’s ultimately what we want, right? We want our children to grow into self-sustaining, confident individuals. Which means we don’t want to be in their space all the time, making all of their decisions for them, doing everything for them. Responding to every little thing. I want to see my kids fumble a little. I want to give them space to learn through living… yes, even as toddlers. And I want to create space for them to come to me with their needs, their wants, their desires, their ideas about what the day could look like.

And the less rigid I am with how this whole parenting thing needs to unfold, the more ease-filled the day-to-day feels.

I’m not resonating with the story that I am a victim to these circumstances that motherhood throws at us and asks us to barely survive through. Because in this current season, I am a resourced, aligned, joyous, energized mother.

Three months ago, I would have read this and been pissed. I’d be cursing myself out. And so I understand if you’re doing that as you read too.

Because there’s this unspoken rule in motherhood culture that it has to be hard. All the time. That we can’t lock eyes with another mother and smile joyously—even heavy-lidded and tired—without immediately rushing to add the hard parts so we still belong. And I want to offer a different permission: it’s allowed to be joyous. Even now. Even in this.

And maybe my story can do that for other mothers. Permission to admit that they’re deeply enjoying themselves inside motherhood too. And that maybe if they’re not yet, they can see that it’s possible, to unapologetically take time and space to stay connected to yourself, inside of this very demanding, sometimes very challenging season of life.