I am a self described mess. Not just any old mess but a steaming hot mess. I spend my resources including time, energy, money, and efforts on making sure my kids, partner, dog and house are not a mess. It is so important to me that everyone else in my life have their shit together.
But I am the hall closet. I believe we all have a closet in our home that when company is coming especially last minute that we jam full of the things that we need to hide. Just like your hall closet I am full of so many things. Some things more positive than others. My life is so full but so disorganized and so many aspects of myself are overlooked. And I say one day I will get to it, but never really do.
I am that mom. The mom that you smile at because you know I am doing my best and struggling but still trying. The mom who is often unshowered, with unwashed hair and generally completely undone in every aspect of the word. I live in yoga pants and a sweatshirt but have not made it to yoga since the beginning of August.
I’ll admit it last year I took the kids to school nearly everyday in a bathrobe. And my kids start school the latest in the district, at 9am. But the kids were always fed, dressed and had everything they needed to be successful.
I have spent the past year working intensely on myself. After a bad marriage, challenging divorce and moving 4 hours away, I needed to rebuild and recreate myself. And one of the key terms that has appeared and reappeared consistently in my work is self care.
Self care is a much broader term than I ever realized. There are five different types of self-care as I see it: physical, emotional, psychological, spiritual and professional care. But doing things for myself has always been a bit foreign to me. I generally do enough self care for my own personal survival.
The more self care I do the more I feel like the suburban goddess mom I want to be. Self care truly feeds my inner goddess and allows it grow. It expands my body, mind and soul . It cleans out the darkness inside myself. Wherever the goddess self care light shines the darkness, heaviness, judgement, criticism, and lack of esteem cease to exist.
In all honesty though, I like being a mess at least most of the time. I embrace and identify with it. It allows me to not have to try, to not have to spend tons of time or money on my appearance. I tell myself it allows me to be a truer form of myself, a free spirit. But there is a part of me that knows this is all a mask, a lie I tell myself to protect myself from disappointment of trying and failing. From my inability to be perfect or just like everyone else.
Now that the truth is out who knows who or how I will be in the future. I know I am capable of change if I truly want it. But lets keep it real, this does not mean I will be the showered, make up wearing, hair blown out mom. After all I am not a miracle worker or a wizard, just a suburban goddess mom.