I recall how I always looked forward to becoming a mother. I focused on that desire more than I probably should have back then. In April 1992 my wish came true with the birth of my daughter Taylor. The birth of Morgan in 1994 and Sydney in 1996 would complete that dream for me. I was in heaven.
What I didn’t know though is that in becoming a mother, I would lose myself. I slipped away so slowly but steadily as I focused all of my attention and love on my children and none on myself. I did not have time to write or paint or run, those passions that defined me. I justified it by saying that soon they would grow up, and I would have all the time in the world for myself. What I didn’t realize was that by losing myself, I was teaching my children not to care about themselves or to care about me either.
The path back to me was challenging. How could I read a book or take a bath when the house needed cleaned or the children could be taken to the park? Somehow though I knew that in order to be the mother I envisioned myself being, I needed to take time for me. I suppose it is like that saying about putting your mask on first before helping others with theirs. It sounds selfish, but it is necessary.
All through my day, no matter where I go, or what I do, I am always looking for the good. I try to find the good in people, in the world, in my life or even just in my day.
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