As we prepared to send the April issue off to press last month I struggled to find a topic for my Last Word. After over eight years and around 80 columns, sometimes I feel like I’ve written about everything.
I discussed the problem with a friend of mine. “I feel like your column used to be more about ‘you, Allison,’ not just ‘Allison the mom,’” she said. And she’s right.
You go your whole life being a composite of many things – sister, daughter, editor, reader, crafter, etc. – all the little pieces that come together to make you YOU. Then, one day, you become a mom and those unique components sort of slip away, without you meaning to let it happen or even really noticing when it does.
After a year or two of new motherhood you come out of the fog and all of a sudden realize that you’ve lost your identity as all but “mommy.” Quite simply, your life revolves completely around this little being, and it doesn’t seem that important, or possible, to find time to be you anymore – after all, you love your child more than anything so why would you want more than to just be their mother?
But, if your whole life is tied up in being a mom, what else is there to write about? And more importantly, isn’t being you, independent of your child, just as important as being mommy?
This battle for identity after motherhood is explored by British poet, author and spoken word artist Hollie McNish in her poem “What’s My Name Again?”
“I lost my name at toddler group. From Hollie, or Hols, or Hollie McNish. I’m now known as so-and-so’s mum. … and it’s only when the stars are out and everything’s dark that my own name creeps out from under the table and I’m able to remember the person I am. With a hot cup of tea and a book in my hand and a two-hour slot to remember my own plans before I turn off the light.”
My friend’s words resonated; they have been percolating within me over the last month, making their presence known every time I try to take a few minutes for myself. I’ve come to realize that being a mom doesn’t have to come at the expense of being you. “Mom” can be added to the grab bag of elements that make up who you are. Wanting to have things that are just for you doesn’t make you a worse mother; in fact it likely makes you a better one, because someone who takes the time for themselves is able to give more fully to others.
Once upon a time I used to read. A lot. I’d come home from the library with 10 or 12 books and have them finished long before they were due back. I was rarely without a book in my hand, but since my daughter was born, reading for pleasure is one of the many things that has fallen by the wayside.
So starting to read again has been the first step in finding myself. I formed a small book club with several friends who are also moms of small children, women who love to read but find it hard to find the time in always full days. We try and meet once a month or so, but of course it ends up being more like every two months what with competing schedules and flagging energy. Having to read a particular title by a certain date has proven, for all of us, to be the catalyst we needed to start reading for ourselves again, if only for a few moments here and there. A small step, but an important one, in our journey beyond “mommy.”
