When do you start to see yourself as a “mom”?

I spent 39 years and 2 months of my life defining myself using a variety of words. I would guess that in the beginning (before I was 12) I didn’t define myself much. I know that I loved reading and being outside and using my imagination with friends. I didn’t like to argue with people who I loved and always tried to make people happy, even though I would try to stand up for what I believed in, even if it required me to eat dirt, but that is a story for another post. I remember that I got teased for being smart in school and so I became a little shy and found comfort in developing a few good friendships as well as relationships with teachers who became mentors and friends.

Probably when I was about 14 and entering high school I would have defined myself as being geeky and a bit plump. I would have told you that I had (bushy) eyebrows like my father, and that I was okay with it (but I was a small-town girl and I knew nothing about waxing). I would have told you that I considered myself a singer and though I was willing to talk in class, I would have told you that I was still shy and nervous to meet new people. I would have told you that I liked to manage things and to lead activities and I would have told you that I loved math.

When I was closer to 15 or 16, though I do not really remember exactly when, I would have told you that I was a little depressed but that being with my friends was my favorite pass-time and I would have told you that despite the choices that some of my friends made that I was not interested in drugs or alcohol (all true). What I would not have told you that though I was afraid of drugs and alcohol, I was not afraid to experiment with sex-like activities. Looking back on it now, it was a self-esteem issue and that I was really looking (in the wrong places) to be ~~liked~~ loved. I would have also told you that I had strict parents and that (for the most part) I was a goodie two-shoes.

When I went to college I described myself as dumb (no, not nice, but I was a big fish in a small pond in high school and I faced a very striking reality when I got to college). I would have called myself friendly and open to trying new things (though still not drugs or alcohol). I would have described myself as a singer and a good friend and a rower (I rowed crew for the first two years of college). I would have described myself as someone who liked to work out for the first time ever and I would have described myself as a studious person who was enjoying my studies in the sciences (that feels a bit questionable now). In college I also I would have defined myself as a feminist and a liberal, and I would have said that I was FINALLY comfortable in my own skin (which I don’t think I was, but I desperately wanted to believe).

After college I was fortunate enough to travel and move and find wonderful jobs and have a vast array of experiences and relationships that shaped me, for sure. I have been to 4 continents and 48 states and I have been married twice (the second one is going to stick, thank goodness). I have ridden in a limo with a superstar folk singer from the 70′s, I have watched the waters of Victoria Falls crash into the raging river below, and I have stood, stoically watching as the first-ever black man was sworn in as president of the United States. I have made tons of amazing mistakes and I have made tons of amazing friends and I have created a rich tapestry of a life along the way.

Between college and July of 2012 I probably would have defined myself as a “pleaser” always putting myself last, a person who had little clue about her convictions, I would still have considered myself a reader and a singer and someone who loved to exercise and be outside. I would have defined myself as a country mouse in the city and a good friend (most of the time). I would have defined myself as a cook a foodie and a traveler. I think that in the years since college I would have defined myself as a lover and not much of a fighter, and I had I been asked, I would have told you that ~~some days~~ many days, despite the richness and amazement of my life, I still felt empty.

In November of 2011 I became pregnant with LadyBug. I didn’t know what that reality meant for my definition of myself. How was I - a career-oriented woman - going to embrace this child? How was I going to find time to love it? I started defining myself as someone who would figure out how to have a family and a career because I could not imagine staying home. I started to define myself as a fluke because for goodness sake, I was OLD and after all those years of trying NOT to get pregnant, I actually changed my mind and DID! I was baffled. I started to question my decisions and my future. How was I going to work a child into my 39 years of child-free living? How was a going to redefine my life and my person to take on the newest descriptions of “wife” and “mother”? How was I going to see plays and concerts and go to great restaurants with a kid?

Last weekend I was standing in a neighbor’s yard. About 5 kids were playing in the yard (including mine) and one of the kid’s grandfather’s came out to chat with me. He started the conversation by saying, “Are you the M.I.C?” I looked at him curiously and said, “M.I.C.?” He said, “You know, Mom In Charge?” I have to admit, It took a few beats for me to respond…”Well, I guess, I have not been a mom for very long so I do not even use that as an adjective to define myself yet.” He chuckled and we went on with our conversation, mostly small talk about how long he was in town and what type of work we both did. When he walked away, I contemplated his question. Was I the M.I.C. at that moment? Have I earned my M.I.C. cred? I have only been at this game for 15 months and a couple of weeks…does it count?

If you were to bump into me on the street and ask me to define myself, here is what I would tell you…

I am a woman who still loves to sing and to read. I love to exercise and do not do it as much as I should. I am a public health professional who has held a job of one kind or another since I was 15. I am smart, but not as smart as most of my friends and that is okay. My goal in life is to make a small difference in the world and to leave it a little better than I found it. I am a great friend and often times I care WAY too much, about a lot of things. I get inexplicably sad from time to time, and even though I have everything I could dream, I am sometimes lonely. I don’t yet know what I want to be when I grow up and I am not sure that I have become the person that I planned to be. I want to be loved (and I am…so so deeply), and, oh yes, in July of 2012, I became a mother at the age of 39, to the most glorious of little creatures. It is hard to believe that I have a child. I am hardly responsible enough to take care of myself. I am still adjusting.