I am struggling. I force myself to do the bare minimum most days. I spiral. I ruminate. Thriving in motherhood requires support from your family. Without it, you lose yourself. Motherhood is not a solo mission. Motherhood is meant to be soft, protected, and surrounded with love.

I had a baby during the peak of the Omicron Covid variant. I was isolated in my post partum room, but for good reason I guess. Nurses checked on me often for vitals and basic care, and made an effort to not stay too long or get too close. I began my motherhood journey completely alone and now in hindsight I admit, I got a bit too used to it. My husband even excused himself the day after I gave birth to go home and work out and check on our cats. I was alone with my son and I marveled at his perfect little face quietly in my dimly lit, small postpartum room.

I have written about this before but I’ll say it again. I love being alone. I have always enjoyed my own company. I have always had a tendency to isolate when my emotions run high. I am afraid of hurting people. I am really good at pretending like everything is okay, and I am happy, even when I am falling apart inside. If I force myself to socialize when I’m going through something, I become an actress. I dress the part of somebody who has it together. I am pretty damn good at it as long as I don’t have to sell it for too long. As long as the promise of my cozy bed and a full night of sleep is at the other end of my performance I usually can make it through, especially with the help of some caffeine to get me through the day.

My favorite person to be with is my son. I feel like everything is okay when we are together. His entire world is perfect and wholesome. Snacks, Ninja Turtles, and Legos. He’s got his priorities in order. He knows how to tug at Mom’s heart strings too. He often gives me profound, heartfelt compliments and pure affection and I never take it for granted. (He also does his fair share of brutally honest insults but those just make me laugh).

Lately it feels like the universe is screaming at me to make bold moves and take risks. I am limited in what I can do for now, but I have been quietly planning and imagining what my future could hold. I miss being creative. I don’t miss performing comedy, which I did consistently for years before I became a mom. Nothing about the way the world is right now feels funny to me. I deeply miss doing creative work and socializing with other people doing the same. I’m a writer and I always have been. Writing perfectly suits my obsessive, introverted, and perverted mind. I want to show everyone the writing I have been keeping to myself for years. It’s not quite ready yet but it’s getting there.

I was steady on a path I was so set on. I was so okay with being a quiet nobody. A suburban, overweight mom with a gardening hobby and a blog. Life has this way of playing dramatic pranks on you just when you think you have it all figured out. Sometimes an interruption is inevitable, necessary, and an opportunity to become who you are supposed to be.