The Art of Motherhood: A Letter to Mothers
I used to see myself as an artist, immersed in the world of painting before the whirlwind of kids entered my life. I would start with a light sketch and spend hours layering brushstrokes to create the perfect fusion of colors and highlights. The process was a rollercoaster of emotions, from excitement for fresh ideas to frustration when plans took unexpected turns, ending with a sense of pride when everything fell into place.
Fast forward to today, where my easel gathers dust in the attic, and my days are filled with a balancing act of job demands, scavenger hunts for my daughter’s misplaced dance shoes, and hurried dinner preparations before the next soccer game. My days of being an artist seem like a distant memory.
However, lately, I've been wondering if that artistic side of me hasn't completely disappeared. Maybe it just found a new canvas — the canvas of motherhood. It's a canvas filled with intricate layers, detailed plans, emotions, and unforeseen changes, requiring the same creativity I poured into my paintings. Motherhood demands the skill of blending patterns and colors, and the ability to reform when things don’t quite align.
The conversations among mothers, including myself, often revolve around the perceived loss of our pre-parenthood identity. Yet, I'm starting to see that my creativity is resurfacing in my parenting journey. It helps me adapt, be flexible, and patient as the colorful picture of motherhood forms. Realizing that this part of me isn't lost, but expressed differently, brings a sense of comfort. I’m still that quirky artist, but my priorities and responsibilities have shifted. And motherhood has brought out parts of myself that I never knew existed, ones that have become a central part of who I am.
So, to my fellow moms — those fragments of your younger self gathering dust in the attic are not lost. Those skills are being reinvented in the canvas of motherhood. Reflect on how they're taking form and remember, your own personal journey of motherhood is a unique identity in itself, one you reflect back on when the tides change and your child no longer requires so much of your energy.
I know one day I’ll be able to dust off my easel and rediscover that earlier version of myself, when my time and hobbies are abundant again. But for now, I find myself immersed in the world of motherhood, integrating elements of my artistic identity, and embracing parenthood with every colorful brushstroke.
So if like me, you are grappling with lost pieces of self as you navigate your motherhood journey, I encourage you to spend some time reflecting. Use the questions below as conversation topics with a friend, as a journal prompt, or as a silent reflection with yourself, to narrate your new story of identity in motherhood.
How has your perception of your identity shifted since becoming a mother? How do you feel about this shift?
Can you pinpoint specific qualities or traits that motherhood has uncovered within you, ones that were previously unknown?
Consider the metaphor of the attic where aspects of your younger self might be collecting dust. How do you feel about these dormant parts of your identity, and can you identify ways they're being rekindled in your journey as a mother?
Imagine the day when you can "dust off your easel." What hobbies or aspects of your previous self do you envision returning to, and how might they integrate with your identity as a mother?
If you could talk to your pre-motherhood self, what would you say?
In Partnership with Hurdles in Heels
