I quickly realized that my latest reply should be a post in and of itself. You see -- there are all these women out there (and even a young girl who searched for "Why is my mother unhappy") -- I think that we all need to realize that motherhood does not equate instant happiness.
Here is my reply to a response to that original posting:
First of all, thank YOU for being brave enough to comment...I get a LOT of hits on this page, and it's the rare person who comments.
I think that there are a lot of mothers out there with these same feelings -- we love our children, we really do, but it can seem as though something's missing. I hadn't been able to put a finger on it until I started blogging...what's missing is knowing that it's NORMAL to feel this way. You hear me? N-O-R-M-A-L
Ironically, I'm also very introverted. It will take a lot to get me to open up in public unless I'm very comfortable with the people I'm around. That's slowly changing with wisdom (or is it just age??) Everyone else was so into things that I'm not. Throwing lavish b-day parties for my kids, caring about the clothes that I wear, or the house I live in or the car I drive.
I mean...really...WHO FRIGGEN CARES???
I don't care. I don't care if they like me...quite frankly, I don't care if YOU like me (no offense meant)...I'm tired of being someone else to please everyone else...and really, when you're trying to be a "happy mother" who are you trying to please; you or society?
In deciding to start caring about myself, I found something -- I like me...I may not like my faults, but they are part of me, and I LIKE ME. I am not happy all day long, I'm not always nice, I'm not the most popular person out there...but guess what...I'm happy now.
I think that the saddest thing about all of this is that it's taken me more than 30 years to come to this realization. I do not need to change who I am for other people to like me. It's okay for other people to not like me. Even more - I'm okay with the fact that other people don't like me! For as long as I can remember, I would go around and be different "hethrs" for different people. There was the funny hethr, the cool hethr, the smart hethr, the tomboy hethr, the hethr who liked to party...etc... But none of those hethrs were me.
I am me. I like me, warts and all. That's what matters.