Becoming a Little More Me

This post didn't start out this way. It started out being about breastfeeding. About the trials, and errors, and intricacies of it all. I sat down briefly to work on it a few times but wasn't getting any where. I definitely have a lot to say on the topic, that's not the problem. The urgency to write about it was getting pushed aside. By what, you ask? Of course you do. By a decidedly optimistic set of thoughts. Gasp! I fully realize that my tendency is to write with a darker bent. I've even been called a cynic. If you happen to be a surmiser of this sort, hold on. This ride is about to get a little wild.

The thing is, I love everything about being my daughter's mom. I love her. I love caring for her. It is joy in its purest form. It feels selfless and right. Well, mostly – almost 100 percent - selfless. Here's the thing. I've discovered a side effect of all this motherhood stuff that has surprised me. It seems natural and it makes sense, I just didn't see it coming. Here it is: with being a mother, I get to be me a little more. I can just hear you, “What, pray tell, do you mean?” See, I have a dirty little secret. Though I'm an introvert - no secret there - I'm a mite bit more emotional than many people take me for. Than I usually allow myself to be, to show.

I actually do cry at sappy movies. Some of them anyways. Did so even pre-baby. I don't think my husband even knows this about me. I feel like a traitor. Stupid Meg and Tom and his little kid on top of the Empire State Building. Stupid rip off of Cary and Deborah. Stupid impossibility of it all. Stupid....sniff. Dammit, something's in my eye again...

So there it is. That's me. I cry at stupid movies. And now that I am a mother, I feel like I have an excuse for being so emotional. You know, the whole everything-changes-when-you're-a-mom thing. Somehow, somewhere in the transition to motherhood I have given myself permission to relax my guard a little. To show my feelings a little more. To block out the judgements I am sure are emanating from those around me. It's incredibly liberating, though not always pretty.

Point in case. As I was walking the dog the other day I saw, down the street a ways, a maple tree with its leaves bursting with the richest naturally occuring orange I think I've ever seen. That colour, combined with the way the sun was hitting the leaves at that time of day, on that day, can only be described as perfect. It was pure and true beauty. From the moment I spotted the tree a dopey grin spread across my face – and I just left it there. When I reached the tree I even stopped for a good fifteen seconds to watch the light hitting the leaves. I wouldn't have done this a year ago. I would have seen the leaves, allowed a small smile, and continued on my way. But now, see, I have (given myself) permission to just be how I want to be a little more. I'm allowed to be more happy, more teary, more loopy, more everything, really. All because I'm a mom.

So I must thank my wee daughter. I get to be me a little more and can just blame it on her and my newfound motherhood. What a fantastic excuse.

Oh, and dear readers, if we're watching a sappy movie together, do the decent thing and hand me a kleenex before I have to ask. I'm still getting used to all this showing emotion stuff.

Comments

Jacquie said…
I wanted to thank you for writing this. You're totally right and I can totally relate. I love this post.

And I do feel a little more me and its all thanks to being Ayanna's mom. being off work and taking the time off with her has been a breath of fresh air.. to be able to take the time to slow down and just enjoy everything about her has been a huge blessing and for such a HUGE change, it doesnt feel like theres been any change at all, because its natural, and its just me :)

So glad you shared this.

Jacquie
9 October 2007 at 17:08
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