Motherhood has transformed me into a resilient force. I used to be a quiet, non-confrontational person who blushed easily and often found myself apologizing. Before becoming a mom, I was sensitive to criticism. I vividly remember a previous boss claiming I achieved success merely due to my charm, not intellect. I was too stunned to defend myself or express my true feelings, which would have involved an expletive-laden retort. Instead, I nodded through the meeting and shed tears in my car afterward.
That was before I experienced the undeniable strength that comes from creating and nurturing life. What could be more empowering than bringing a child into the world? My former insecurities faded as I immersed myself in the chaotic and demanding world of parenting—a world where I was too busy raising a squirmy, red-faced infant into a spirited, headstrong toddler to worry about trivial matters.
Now, with two more kids in tow, I’ve morphed into someone my past self would have found intimidating. That version of me who cried in her car is long gone, replaced by a woman who has weathered sleepless nights and the trials of managing three children. Motherhood doesn’t consider your limits; it pushes you beyond them.
The quiet version of me has been replaced by a more vocal presence, especially after giving birth without any pain relief. My easily embarrassed self vanished after enduring the most excruciating case of hemorrhoids imaginable. I was in such agony that I couldn’t even articulate to my husband that I needed medical attention. Instead, I lay on the floor, wishing for unconsciousness to relieve the pain, knowing he would owe me big time for not taking my suffering seriously.
Motherhood disregards modesty and self-respect. I have become tougher and more assertive because, frankly, motherhood doesn’t care if I’ve only slept for three hours or if I’m feeling self-conscious. Motherhood demands action. It shouts, “Get up! Your child is about to eat silica packets!”
Whether it means sprinting outside in mismatched pajamas to catch a naked toddler or ensuring my oldest makes it onto the bus, I embrace it. If I need to abandon a fully loaded grocery cart due to a meltdown, so be it. If a stranger gets too close to my vehicle or touches my baby, I’m not shy about asserting my boundaries. I simply don’t have the luxury of feeling embarrassed or apologizing for my decisions.
I’m not even able to enjoy a moment of solitude to use the restroom without interruptions, so a lengthy phone conversation or remembering to pay the bills is out of the question. An onlooker might assume I’m on medication, but in reality, I’m just a mother, battle-hardened and focused on surviving the day.
Motherhood—whether it’s calming crying babies, changing diapers, or navigating through whirlwind tantrums—has reshaped me, and I am thankful for that. It compels me to persevere, to love fiercely even when I’m spent, and to keep pushing forward. Motherhood is indeed a powerful force, and now, I am a formidable force in my own right.
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