I’m a mom, but that’s not my only descriptor

I just had my third kid. I typically start every conversation by stating this and am finding that in a way this singular fact defines me — my life stage, my body, my mentality. I’ve grown into one not to be defined by anyone else, my children included, yet I find myself using “mom” as a descriptor, as though being a mother is my only societal contribution, as though I have nothing to offer but parenting insight.

I had my first child at 21 and, as a young mother, basically had no idea what the hell I was doing. I struggled those first few years striking a balance between motherhood and individuality. When my second was born, thoughts of seeking a job or furthering my education all but disappeared, relegating me to a life of park trips and play dates.

And I loved it.

I love the life motherhood has to offer. I love watching my children grow. I love letting go of my own needs and giving myself to something bigger.

But that doesn’t mean I have to lose myself.

I became more aware of that fact when my two older children were both finally in grade school, which meant I had more time to focus on myself and career (though I had no idea what that would look like). I’d spent the years when my two big kids were younger either staying at home or working a few nights a week bartending and, over the course of seven or eight years, had never focused on finding my own passion.

One chilly fall morning, when my eldest was out of school and I had nowhere to be, I haphazardly sent a portfolio and application into a grad program for writing and hoped for the best. A few weeks later, the program director called, accepting me as one of four creative nonfiction students and I knew I’d found my niche.

When I found out I was pregnant this time around, I was two weeks from starting my first grad school residency. My initial reaction was that I had to — yet again — put myself on hold though I’d come so close to doing something big for me.

But now, at 31, after a trying divorce and being in a new, fresh relationship with a phenomenal partner, I feel able to take all those pieces — the need for individuality coupled with a longing to hold and nurture my children, to grow my family — and create the most beautiful picture for my life.

Now, I freelance from home. I drop my big kids off at school and nurse my daughter as I write and edit. I’d spent so many years thinking each aspect of my life was mutually exclusive, that I’d have to wait on a perfect situation to focus on myself or worse, that focusing on myself was inherently wrong.

I’m here to tell you that it’s not.

I’m now empowered instead of feeling trapped in cyclical, self-imposed guilt as I show my children I can focus on my passions while giving them the attention they need.

Yes, I’m a mom. But I’m also a writer and a student and a partner and a friend. I am who I am and it takes more than one introductory descriptor to define me.

Photo: Liz Logan

This story was originally published March 7, 2017 at 9:02 PM with the headline "I’m a mom, but that’s not my only descriptor."