Welcome Back

Being a mom is sometimes a weird experience. Being a mom of 4, even more so. For much of the last 17 years, I was so busy being there for everyone else, I forgot to be there for me.

I would try to be there for myself...sort of. Yoga-sometimes. Work out--inconsistently. Meditate--once in a while. I'm always just so busy.

And if doing something involves spending money on myself? Forget it. Because with four kids, there just never seems to be enough for all we want to do.

I've ridden horses pretty much my whole life, and two of my four kids ride as well. I've been struggling, though. The last few years I've been dogged by a fear so strong, it stops me from riding much at all. But, my daughter outgrew her pony, and the only way we could afford a new horse for her was if I trained him myself (which is what I spend a lot of my life doing before having kids).

As part of my plan of conquering that persistent fear, I decided to take some lessons alongside my daughters, with the coach I grew up riding with.

It was a Tuesday, the kids were at school, and all morning I was happy--looking forward to my lesson and the time I'd be spending in the saddle. I was overcome with gratitiude for my husband; with his encouragment and support, I could get myself back into riding. I felt amazing.

But as the day wore on, I started thinking about how much the lessons would cost. I don't remember exactly what I was doing in that moment, but I do know I froze. My good mood came crashing down; suddenly I didn't want to ride anymore, and was weighed down by self-induced stress and sadness I knew all too well.

The truth of the situation wasn't lost on me, and I was humbled by what I had uncovered. All these years I'd been so afraid. I'd battled the fear everytime I'd climbed on a horse; I'd push through the fear, even when I didn't know how. Until, eventually, I just got so damn tired. I didn't want to have to fight so hard anymore. So I let the fear win.

But I had been misunderstanding that fear all along. It wasn't the horses that scared me. I wasn't afraid of getting hurt. I didn't mind the time spent away from my family when I was on the back of a horse.

I was afraid of what I've always been afraid of: money. Or, lack thereof. And because of that fear, I'd been keeping parts of myself locked neatly away for years. No one ever asked me to and, quite frankly, I didn't even know I was doing it until one day I stopped and had to try to figure out where I'd gone.

Now, finally, I'm starting to unpack all the things I've been keeping locked away. I didn't know I was burying parts of myself; now that I see it, it's so obvious it's embarrassing.

It's what mothers do. It's our nature. We want what's best for our kids, and we'll do whatever we can to help them find success and happiness. We'll sacrifice our time, our sleep, our money. Ourselves. I don't know if it's a neccesity of motherhood; I don't know how it started, or where, or why. But I do know it's not healthy, and I'm finding ways to stop.

I'm learning how to be the wife my husband needs and I'm FINALLY learning that doesn't mean sacrificing myself.

And I'm starting to unpack all the things I've been keeping locked away.

Welcome back.