When most of us make the decision to become wives and mothers, our visions rarely include the women who stare back at us. I know I’m not the only one spending moments getting acquainted to who that woman is.
I mean, let’s be honest here. Who could possibly tell us that when we looked in the mirror we’d be missing the layers of armor we spent years building to ensure we were the educated, successful, faithful, kind, confident and competent women we hope will raise our children? If you can stare in the mirror and say you recognize the same woman you were before motherhood, than I politely argue that you’re in denial. No one tells us that the woman who would be raising our children would be someone we never even met. How is that even possible?
Should it be?
Can it be?
Want to know what else I’ve realized? There are many in denial and you can find them just about anywhere and everywhere. They’re in our schools, jobs, marriages, congregations and I will tell you I can even spot them on a playground.
Yes, a playground.
The disguises are our best kept armor when we meet one another out.
My hope and prayer is that there comes a day when our culture isn’t paralyzed by the truth and encouraged to disguise ourselves. Motherhood undressed herself with the intention for what she hoped would be made visible to all of us. I know I don’t stand alone in the truth about being stripped of everything I thought I knew and every bit of who I thought I was before I had my children. Yet of all the things people are eager to share, post, publicize and talk about, no one is too eager to share the truth.
The veils are comfortable, I get it. I struggle with it too and find myself having to think about when and why I’ve done it too. Of all the things people were eager to share about motherhood (aren’t there many!?), no one exposes the vulnerable truths about learning how to stand comfortably and confidently in your new skin.
And no, not just in the literal term. Although I will say that is a shocker too!
I experience motherhood as standing in a stadium completely naked. Everything we do, every decision we make or not make is out there for everyone to see, judge or comment on. Sometimes it’s cold, exposed, vulnerable and deathly uncomfortable. The only part I have found refuge in is the brave souls who choose to disrobe with me. They don’t sit outside of the stadium as spectators to judge, gossip and marinate in negativity. They’re in there too, with you. With all of us.
This is my confession of mothering naked. Disrobe if you dare.
In Love & Truth,