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Hi, I'm Chelsea! I’m on a mission to help you find joy and goodness in every day.
On this blog we talk about the big things (like chasing dreams) and the small things (like what books we're reading) because happiness comes in all sizes.
I’m sure you read that and think, Ah, yes. She got pregnant and lost her identity. She became a mom and motherhood swallowed her. She forgot who she was because she was just a mom. Because we’ve all heard one version or another of that story before.
But that’s not true for me. See, I forgot who I was before I got pregnant.
Not in a huge way. Not in a life-crisis kind of way. I didn’t go flying off the deep end, I didn’t have an affair, I didn’t hate my life. In fact, I was actually pretty happy. We were getting closer and closer to the end of med-school. I had a good job. My weekends were filled with drinks and dancing with friends, rooftop pool days, and lazy brunches.
The forgetting who I was wasn’t accompanied by a huge bout of depression or a drastic circumstance. It happened little by little, so far under the surface of everyday life that I really didn’t even notice it.
I stopped writing as much, (outside of blogging) because it wasn’t turning out to be hugely successful for me. I stopped doing things I liked, like browsing thrift stores for fun, because I didn’t have anyone to go with, and it felt lame to go by myself. I’m a huge dreamer and planner, but our future was so up in the air with Match Day coming up, that I kind of just stopped planning and even dreaming about the future.
And then. Jack.
Getting pregnant reminded me of who I was.
I’ve said before that baby Jack was a surprise, but once the shock wore off (so..like six months later? haha), I started thinking about the kind of life I wanted him to have and the kind of person I wanted to teach him to be. Kind, thankful, adventurous, unique, passionate. I wanted him to follow his dreams, no matter what they were. I wanted him to find something he loved and set the world on fire.
And then I thought…remember when I wanted those things for me, too? What happened?
I wasn’t a bad person. I wasn’t wasting my life. I wasn’t even really unhappy. I just wasn’t me.
I didn’t have to reinvent who I was, I just had to remember who I was. And being handed a brand new, fussy, tiny little baby did just that. From the moment I saw him, everything just felt so clear. It was like the proverbial fog cleared and I could instantly see what I wanted my life to be, who I wanted to be, and what was the most important.
I’ve read a lot of stories about how having a baby made moms lose their identity. That it made them forget who they were. I just wanted to offer another perspective.
Having a baby reminded me of who I was. Becoming a mom helped me find my way back to the version of myself that I loved the most. And I will always, always be so thankful for that.
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