Instead of simply suggesting books or shows for each other that we were dying to discuss, we decided to form a book club. It felt soulful to spend carefree, non-obligatory time with people who weren’t just interacting in a professional capacity, and who didn’t define our identifies as mothers or spouses.Īfter many joyful hours of rehashing the old times, conversations inevitably transitioned towards bingeworthy Netflix series and book recommendations. I look back on this event as my Independence Day. Rediscovering, remembering, and recognizing who we truly were at our core. Our interactions were natural, and each of us ladies completely fell back into the younger versions of ourselves. What I discovered that night was that I wasn’t the only one who gained so much fulfillment from that one evening. Our interactions were natural, and each of us fell back into the younger versions of ourselves, rediscovering who we truly were at our core. Cocktails, dinner, and a comedy show with laughs that spilled onto the sidewalk as we lingered long after it was over, delaying our goodbyes. We adapted and normalized our supportive roles by “liking” each other’s family vacations and children’s growth milestones through picture sharing and post commenting.įor all the reasons mentioned above, organizing a night out with working mom schedules proved to be challenging, but we somehow managed to come together to celebrate a milestone. ![]() Our friendships devolved into becoming spectators of our lives through social media. Inevitably our lives were entirely consumed with family obligations mixed with the guilt carried by working mothers. Somewhere between celebrating housewarming gatherings, engagement parties, stagettes, weddings, and baby showers, those meaningful in-person relationships slowly disappeared throughout our thirties. Until now, our weekends included gathering with other friends and their kids, but the ability to deeply connect when a child’s needs were always a distraction was next to impossible. What was the missing piece in my life that I was struggling to find in order to feel complete? Now that I’ve rediscovered myself, I can tell you emphatically the missing piece was friendship. I no longer felt like an interesting person. Somewhere along the motherhood journey of pouring every ounce of myself into the needs of my family, keeping house, preparing meals, working, commuting, and juggling varying daycare schedules, I realized that I had lost my identity. Sleep deprived and so deeply in love with these humans I had created that words can not even describe my joy. for feedings, I rocked them in peaceful bliss knowing that there was absolutely no place else I’d rather be than right there, in that moment, comforting my children. I’d sewn all my oats in my younger days with plenty of parties, concerts, and dating experiences. In my thirties, I got married and became a mother of two healthy, beautiful children, a daughter and a son. ![]() I saved every penny so I could travel to many continents and immerse myself in a variety of cultures. ![]() I purchased my own home and furnished it to my liking. ![]() In my twenties I earned myself a career that I worked hard for. At this stage in my life, I feel I have achieved many milestones. When this author started a book club with seven of her best friends, she had no idea how fulfilling their monthly meetups would be.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |