I help busy moms simplify EVERYTHING, from home to schedule to business.
Back in 2012, I had three babies under age three. I lived in a great house married to a good man. I was living a dream, and I was so happy to have all I had… but I felt like I was carrying around this dark secret.
It clung to me and taunted me like a demon.
The secret was, I woke up every morning already too exhausted to take on a day that hadn’t even started yet. I felt completely depleted, depressed, miserable. And for that, I felt so guilty.
I carried this secret around for so long, pretending to be okay at Mommy meet-ups at the park, with friends who seemed to be doing great, at church, everywhere I went I was holding up a mask to hide my demon, my secret.
I needed to let it out. I needed to talk to someone. I needed to see if anyone else felt this way in motherhood.
Maybe it was normal? Maybe everyone is pretending? Maybe there’s an answer I’m not aware of to make everything better?
I mentioned my overwhelm and unhappiness to several women I looked up to, who were way ahead of me in the journey of motherhood. Their responses were all the same, phrased differently person-to-person, of course. And the hopelessness I felt hearing it was deafening.
“Yup, that’s motherhood! It’s crazy. And just wait til they get older! It gets even harder in different ways! But don’t worry, you’ll get through it.”
This is it?
This is the way it’s supposed to be?
And it gets... worse?
I felt so heavy. Like all the mothers of the world had decided it’s a shit show and there’s no way out of it. There’s no help or hack - just struggling and draining yourself empty but also carpe-ing all the diems because “it goes by so fast!” And that’s motherhood.
The fire in me wouldn’t quite die all the way out, despite where I was mentally and emotionally at this point in my life. I thought through all the responses from these women, I felt the weight of their ‘advice’.
I thought about a Scripture I had always clung to since my childhood growing up in the church…
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.
If God is good, and God desires for us to experience a life of abundance, of goodness and enjoyment, was this version of life, of motherhood, it?
Not a chance. There’s just no way. And maybe this was why it wasn’t sitting right with me.
So, what then? What was the answer? What shifts needed to happen for me to step into that kind of life and out of this one?
One day, in the midst of processing all of this, the kids and I had a terrible day. There was whining and diaper blow-outs and temper tantrums and messes and cleaning up only for there to be even more messes and the chaos cycle was fully controlling all of us.
That feeling as a mom when you know you’re about to do something that will not be good for your children. You’re not yourself. You’re going to go too far and yell too loud and tear the bond in your home.
I quickly turned on the TV for the kids, got the baby in his bouncer and ran up the stairs to be alone. I was already sobbing when I slammed the door to my bathroom and slid down the wall, falling into a heap on the floor in tears and absolute hopelessness.
“GOD! WHERE ARE YOU? WHAT DO I DO HERE?? I WANT OUT! I DON’T WANT TO BE A MOM ANYMORE. Not this way. Help me. Please wake up and help me.”
In that experience, a thought popped into my head like it wasn’t mine.
What exactly are you spending all your time doing?
“Picking up. Maintaining my life. Maintaining… stuff. Stuff we don’t even need.”
And in order to keep the house and myself out of CPS-status, I had to constantly clean up, pick up, maintain, put away, wipe it down, move it around, get it out of the baby’s reach, etc etc ETC.
I had so much to maintain both physically and metaphorically that I wished I wasn’t a mom anymore?! I decided to be done with this. With ALL of it.
Abundant life is my birth right and I was about to move all the shit out of the way and take hold of it.
I purged my house of all excess clutter, then I did the same with my schedule and to do list, then this spilled into my health and wellness, and then into my boundaries with others… I simplified EVERYTHING.
And you know what happened? I had space for what actually matters.
I stopped being the mom who snapped at her toddlers constantly and became the mom who played with them outside.
I stopped being the wife who nagged about how hard my day was and “I have to do everything around here” and became a strong woman who asks for help, owns her day, and has time to watch The Office with her husband when he gets home from work.
I stopped being a victim reacting to my life and became a woman of intent, living on purpose, proactively solving problems, seeing the good, and living well.
I became more myself.
I discovered that I’m a PERSON, not a mom. My motherhood is not my identity. I don’t have to try so hard, I don’t have to run around like crazy maintaining the mundane while missing out on the point of it all.
I started blogging, I found my passion and purpose, I found myself, I found out that life is so beautiful and we’re the ones who over-complicate and make it so hard.
Today, my blog has turned into a viral empire where I get to guide other women out of the muck and into the light.
I get to work against typical Hot Mess Mom culture and call women into actually enjoying their lives and themselves!
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