Shell

I wrote this at a time when I was in a difficult chapter. I have a feeling if you’re reading this, you know this feeling too.

Motherhood and staying married is incredibly difficult. But no one usually talks about that part. These words were medicine to turn pain into a tangible release.

This piece is specifically for my messy, tired, loving mamas and wives out there.

It’s okay to not be okay. I love you.

She became a shell of herself. But then, she never really was completely whole to begin with.

Is anybody? 

This version of her was more see-through gauze, more fatigued overwhelm, more fissures, which eventually would transform into indifference.

Growing people, feeding people, keeping people alive will do that to even the strongest of mothers. She thought it was what she wanted. But no one warned her about the constant sacrifice, isolation, lack of time to think two thoughts together in a row without interruption. They just handed her the babies in the hospital and wished her good luck. 

There was no separation between herself and the children. The one who helped her make the people, her husband, wanted some of her too. There was little left to give to anyone, but she gave it away also. She never realized she had a choice in the matter.