Before I Was A Mother
Before I was her mother and before I was his wife, I was just a girl trying to find her path to womanhood. My late teen years and twenties were filled with adventures, mistakes, countless crushes, love and heartbreak. I used to think that I had a boring romantic life, but now as an adult looking back at it all – there is some rom-com magic all up in there.
I stumbled on all of this as I was in my art studio attempting to get inspired to put brush to canvas. Trying to find my desk under crafting shrapnel I discovered an old letter. It made me start digging. I found more letters, old journal posts, poems scribbled on napkins and wandering thoughts found in the margins of my college ruled notebooks. It all made me smile, blush and roll my eyes laughing at myself. I was and still am the epitome of a hopeless romantic. Doodles of boys names, passages about unrequited love, passion, lust and scandal.
There were countless journal entries about people I was involved with, details about first dates, bad dates, and toe curling escapades. Unlike the current generation, documenting their lives in photos, I documented my life with pen and paper. I kept yearly planners and at certain points of my life I could tell you what I had for lunch on a hot summers day in 2005, or whose lips were kissing mine on a cold winters night in 2009. I should probably put all this crap in a safe before my daughter learns how to read.
That girls life, my life – whether it was exaggerated within my mind and my written words was truly something. I wouldn’t be here today if all her fuck-ups and wild nights didn’t blend well with her hard work and determination. It is crazy, but I almost don’t recognize her anymore. I’m a mom who hasn’t felt beautiful, sexy or spontaneous for that matter in a million years. So, all of this got me thinking and then I started writing.
For the next couple of Mondays, I’m going to be posting little tid-bits and full on stories about who that girl was and what she was doing. First loves, first dates, bad dates, crushes and heartbreak. The juicy meat of my life that lead me to here. I’ll be taking my notes, journal entries and letters and recreating the stories for you all. No names will ever be mentioned nor professions. I may even be changing some pronouns to keep things interesting, but I’m going to lay it all out there. Just as I do when I’m talking about motherhood, pregnancy and postpartum. Because before the ring, pregnancies, diapers and stretch marks I was my own person. A girl who lived on her own, paid her own bills, and took my desires and heart very seriously. I may be a mother and a wife, but I’m a woman first.
Usually during this time of year, I’m recording all the holiday rom-coms and romances to watch with my Mom in our Christmas jammies and loads of junk food. Since theres a giant ocean in between us this year, I think telling everyone about my scandalous and not so scandalous loves and crushes will have to do. Stay tuned – things are going to get hot, heavy and awkward.