There was a time when I was just Heather.
Remember her?
She was fun.
Spontaneous.
Energetic.
She had interests that didn't involve anyone else's bowel movements, school schedules, missing shoes, appointments, dinner preferences, or emotional well-being.
She was actually pretty fucking cool.
And then I became Mom.
Which, without question, is the best title I have ever had.
I have four kids. They are my world. I would do absolutely anything for them.
But somewhere between raising four humans, being a wife, running a household, working, making appointments, worrying about everyone, remembering everything for everyone, and somehow being the only person capable of locating an object directly in front of someone else's face...
Heather disappeared.
Not all at once.
There wasn't some dramatic moment where I waved goodbye to her.
She just slowly got buried underneath Mom.
And one day I realized:
Wait.
Where the hell did I go?
When Did "Mom" Become My Entire Personality?
You know how it happens.
Someone asks what you've been up to.
"Oh, the kids have..."
Someone asks what you're doing this weekend.
"Well, one kid has..."
Someone asks how you're doing.
"Everyone's good!"
Okay.
Wonderful.
BUT HOW ARE YOU?
I don't think I even knew how to answer that question for a while.
Because everything in my life revolved around somebody else.
And that's motherhood, right?
At least that's what we were taught.
Good moms sacrifice.
Good moms put their kids first.
Good moms show up.
Good moms handle it.
Good moms make sure everyone has what they need.
So we do.
And we do.
And we do.
Until sometimes there isn't much left for us.
And Before Anyone Comes for Me…
Because you know somebody will.
"Well, you chose to have kids."
No shit, Karen.
Thank you for that groundbreaking information.
I chose motherhood.
I love motherhood.
Those two things do not mean motherhood has been easy every second of every day.
You can love your children more than anything in this world and still miss the person you were before everyone needed something from you.
You can be incredibly grateful to be a mother and still sometimes want to lock yourself in the bathroom and eat a snack without sharing it.
You can love your family and still need something that's yours.
Those things can exist at the same time.
And I wish more women felt comfortable saying that out loud.
Because Motherhood Can Be Lonely as Hell
Nobody really talks about this part.
You're surrounded by people all day and somehow still feel alone.
You're needed constantly but don't necessarily feel seen.
People know Mom.
Mom knows where everything is.
Mom remembers the appointments.
Mom knows what everyone likes.
Mom handles the paperwork.
Mom figures it out.
Mom makes it happen.
Mom knows when something is wrong before anyone says a word.
But sometimes you start wondering:
Does anybody remember the woman underneath all of that?
Do I remember her?
That was the scarier question.
Because for a while, I don't think I did.
Then Something Started to Change
A few years ago, I started finding Heather again.
Not the Heather I was before kids.
She's gone.
And honestly, that's okay.
I don't want to go backwards.
Motherhood changed me.
Marriage changed me.
Life changed me.
Heartbreak changed me.
Getting older changed me.
Every beautiful, shitty, complicated thing I've lived through has changed me.
But changed doesn't have to mean lost.
I started doing things because I wanted to do them.
I started figuring out what I liked again.
I started talking to people about things that had absolutely nothing to do with my children.
I started laughing more.
Like really laughing.
The kind where your stomach hurts and you can't breathe and you look absolutely ridiculous.
I started getting out.
Trying things.
Having ideas.
Changing my mind.
Starting things.
Stopping things.
Starting something completely different because apparently that's one of my hobbies now.
And slowly…
There she fucking was.
Heather.
Turns Out, I Actually Like Her
Finding myself again didn't make me a worse mother.
That's the part I wish someone had told me years ago.
It made me better.
I didn't feel as isolated.
I had things to talk about besides what was happening with my kids.
I had ideas.
Goals.
Friendships.
Things that excited me.
Things that belonged to me.
I remembered that I wasn't just Mom.
And before anyone gets offended by the word just; I'm not saying being a mom isn't enough.
I'm saying I am allowed to be more than one thing.
I can be Mom.
I can be a wife.
I can be a friend.
I can be creative.
I can be ambitious.
I can be ridiculous.
I can reinvent myself 17 times.
I can have dreams that have absolutely nothing to do with my children.
And none of that takes anything away from how much I love being their mother.
Women are allowed to have an identity outside of the people they take care of.
Your Kids Don't Need You to Disappear
I think for years I believed being a good mother meant giving my kids every piece of me.
Now?
I don't want my daughters to see that.
I don't want them believing motherhood means disappearing.
And I don't want my son believing that's what should be expected of the woman he loves someday.
I want my kids to see their mom having a life.
Having friends.
Laughing.
Trying new things.
Failing at things.
Starting over.
Having dreams.
Doing shit just because it makes her happy.
Because someday, if they become parents, I want them to know:
You don't have to lose yourself to love your children well.
Maybe You're Still in the Lost Part
Maybe you're reading this with little kids climbing on you.
Maybe you haven't peed alone since 2017.
Maybe your idea of self-care right now is going to Target alone and wandering around for 45 minutes touching things you have absolutely no intention of buying.
Honestly?
Enjoy your vacation.
Maybe your kids are older and you're suddenly looking around thinking:
Okay… they don't need me the way they used to.
Now what?
Maybe you're realizing you don't even know what you like anymore.
That's okay.
You don't need some dramatic Eat, Pray, Love moment.
You don't have to book a flight to Bali and discover yourself while wearing linen pants.
Start small.
What makes you laugh?
What did you used to love?
What have you always wanted to try?
Who do you enjoy being around?
What makes you feel like you?
Not Mom.
Not wife.
Not employee.
Not caretaker.
You.
Go find a little more of her.
So… Who Am I If I'm Not Mom?
I'm still figuring that out.
And maybe that's the best part.
I'm Heather.
I'm a mom of four.
I'm a wife.
I'm a friend.
I'm someone who loves hard, laughs loudly, changes her mind, starts over, screws things up, figures shit out, and keeps going.
I have been through storms.
Some I thought would break me.
And life isn't suddenly sunshine and rainbows because I "found myself."
That's bullshit.
There are still hard days.
There are still days when everyone needs me at once and I'd like to change my name and move somewhere nobody knows the word, Mom.
But now I know she's still in there.
Heather didn't disappear.
She was just busy raising four humans.
And now?
She's finding her way back.
Not to the woman she used to be.
To the woman all of those years made her.
And you know what?
She's actually a really cool person.
You should know her.