Identity lost and found

E and me.

It took me a long time to get comfortable with who I was as a person. Anyone who met me before the age of 26 knows that I was painfully shy. The kind of shy where people wonder if you know how to speak at all. I refused to use the phone, go to parties, or even enter a room unaccompanied by someone in my inner circle. But eventually, I opened up. I learned who I was and what I was about, and I even grew to like it. Now try to imagine what happens to someone when their identity that took 26 years to get comfy with all of a sudden disappears.

Because that’s motherhood.

For at least the first month of E’s life, I felt like my soul had been crushed. My identity, something that I had such a fragile relationship with anyway, had been lost. Instead of my job, hobbies, and relationship with my husband, my life became about three things — food, sleep and comfort for a tiny human.

I was so confused. I wanted this, right? Every month that pregnancy test came back negative I cried and cried. But now that he was here, I cried for a different reason. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I was stuck in some kind of identity limbo between the person I was and the person I now had to become. I remember preparing myself for how physically difficult motherhood would be. The baby holding, pacing, rocking, etc. But nothing could have prepared me for how emotionally difficult it is. All of that time spent in school and then working to get that job that meant something more than a paycheck — none of it gave me the tools I needed for this gig. It’s the profession that’s 24/7 and takes every part of you to do. All of a sudden, everything isn’t about you anymore. Your grades, where you went to college, how much you make, your job title, your Pinterest wedding — none of it makes a bit of difference.

Thank goodness.

I can’t think about me all the time. And that’s kind of a relief. I mean, sure, sometimes all I want to do is finish that other half of my sandwich. Or go to the bathroom when I want. Or do any task or chore in a way that feels like it’s been done completely and hasn’t been rushed. But those things will have to wait. Because my baby needs me.

While it’s still uphill sometimes, I think I’m starting to learn who the new me is. And I’ve been reminded that life isn’t about creating the perfect you. It’s about change and challenges, and how you respond to both. I may have lost my identity, but I’m starting to build a new one, and that’s a good thing. It’s how life works.