To the mom who’s at her breaking point,
I won’t tell you to enjoy every moment, maybe not a single one. I’m not even going to tell you to hold it together — you already know how to do that. In fact, it’s all you’ve been doing. You’re so used to putting on your happy face that now it’s all you know.
So go ahead and break. Take off your happy face and crumble. Just for a little while.
The truth is, we all fall apart sometimes, no matter what we do. And the harder we try to hold it together, the farther we have to fall. So let go. Let go of your expectations, let go of telling yourself you have to just push through, be stronger, try harder, make it work. Because sometimes you can’t. Sometimes everything is a mess and it won’t budge — you’re trapped on a ride you can’t get off.
I’ve been there, and I hear you. You just want a day, an hour, a minute to yourself and it seems so impossibly out of reach. Maybe it is right now. Maybe your hands are full, and your heart feels empty, and as the clock ticks by, the minutes are never, ever yours to just be.
The all encompassing points of motherhood are not for the weak. They come in waves and sometimes they crash hard and batter the shore with so much intensity that it looks different when the storm is over — it’s smaller. But it’s still there. It’s never gone. So crumble — hard and fast. I promise, you’ll still be there when it’s over.
But you don’t need to just get through it. You need to feel it — the pain, the hard, the bottom of the f*cking barrel. Take in every single bitter ounce. Sometimes you need to, so you can remember how to feel at all. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in doing and being everything for everyone, being careful of everyone’s thoughts and feelings and meltdowns that we forget psst, it’s okay to have them, too.
We forget that we’re allowed to feel things and feel them deeply because we’re so busy holding everyone else up. Yes, you’re a mother, but you aren’t perfect — far from it. You’re allowed to cry, to break, to wish you were anywhere else even. You’re a person who needs room to breathe and to fall and fail and learn from your own defeat. Because you can’t do that, you can’t move forward by doing everything right.
There is light on the other side. It’s there and it’s so bright it’s almost blinding. Soon, you will see it. You’ll be in it — basking in it’s glow and barely being able to remember the darkness at all. But first, you have to let the rain fall, and remember that nothing lasts forever.
I know you can do it all, but it’s okay to just be a human being, too. Sometimes, you just have to crash and burn because from the flames, you’ll rise. You’ll come out better, stronger, and in love with your family all over again. But you have to feel it to move through it. So for just a little while, let the waves overtake you. Forget you know how to swim and just float. And before you know it, you’ll find yourself in calmer waters.
To the mom who’s at her breaking point, go ahead and break. Be honest with yourself and everyone around you. Let it all hang out and know, you aren’t alone and this is not the end. It’s the start of something new — a better chapter with more of your story, the one you forgot the words to.
So turn the page and keep reading.