Where is she? I ask as I gaze at my reflection. Who am I anymore? Oh, I know I’m his wife and their mother, but what happened to the girl I once was, the woman I hoped to become? Everything changed, and I didn’t even notice it happening. As I gaze at my reflection, I don’t recognize myself anymore.
Sometimes I feel as though I’m a shell of who I once was. I am who I am supposed to be I guess; the dutiful wife, the attentive mother. The house is always clean, meals prepared school, work done, laundry, playtime, arts and crafts, baking, the real homemaker. But what happens as the children get older, what happens when they don’t need me as much? Who am I then?
This is not something I considered as I was letting the me I once knew slip away. I just put it out of my head; be the best mother you can be, be there for them. It won’t matter now, all the while becoming further and further from myself.
I see her in there, sometimes looking out at me, begging to be set free. Begging for a chance, but when I give her a little peek, he’s quick to shut her down, so I put her away, locked inside again. He chips away at me until the woman I once was becomes smaller and smaller. I never imagined that a marriage could be so lonely and isolating. I find myself seeking out companionship to feel appreciated, noticed, alive, and beautiful.
Do I regret the time spent as "just" a wife and mother? Never, I just wish I had held onto a little bit of myself in the moment. It’s so easy to let yourself get lost in the clubs, meetings, sports, play dates, and school. You go through the motions on autopilot before you know it, 10 years have gone by. When I look at him, I don’t know who he is anymore, either. Perhaps because I don’t know who I am, perhaps because we didn’t really know each other in the first place. The more I think about it, the more I realize it wasn’t all his fault. I’d let him lock away the woman I wanted to be when I was trying to become the woman he wanted me to be, and where did that get us? A broken home, bitterness, and hatred sometimes.
My children are the light of my life, but they’re growing, getting older and not needing me as much. Eventually, they’ll start their own lives. I have to find that woman, but I lost her so many years ago. I know she’s still in there, trapped behind the guilt and the expectations.
Now that I’m free of him, I see a glimmer of me peeking through those tiny lines on my face that appeared when I wasn't looking. Breaking through like waves through newly crusted ice on the pond in early winter. Is there still time to become the woman I wish to be ?