A lot of what I heard when I was becoming a mum for the first time were comments along the lines of “oh enjoy these last days of freedom”, “oh you can kiss that life goodbye”, and “you won't have time for that soon”.
For the most part, a lot of those comments had truth to them, and I was over the moon about it! Intoxicated with love and amazement at what we had created, I happily, and most often unconsciously, shed those parts of myself that no longer served what I now felt was my purpose, to keep my little boy alive and happy one day at a time.
As time passed, sleep deprivation and exhaustion kicked in, as well as pressure from study, work and running a household. So I naturally shed more and more of those pieces of me that threatened to drain any of the vital energy and mental space that seemed so scarce.
Then one day I realised I was married and two kids deep in the mum life, driving along with the boys in the back wondering who am I? And what the hell happened to the Fi I used to know. Where are all those other pieces of me that seem to have been left on the cutting room floor in this ‘mum’ role I’m playing?
Whatever happened to the artist me, the horsewoman me, the tennis player and marathon runner me. Where’s the ‘don’t give a shit’ tomboy, the world traveling, sky-diving, mountain climbing, bungee jumping me. What about the nature-loving, grass rolling, yoga doing, hippie me. The dancing around at music festivals in my bathers me.
Well, it seems these sacred and loved parts of myself have really taken a backseat over the past 5 years, while other joys and the work that goes with them, have occupied my time. I have been birthing and raising the lights of my life with the love of my life while studying and practicing a career that gives me purpose and happiness. No one took these parts of me, no one stole them and robbed me of my old self. I put them down, pushed them back and made them not so important to me at the time.
But now I am coming to a realization that these pieces of me are what make me the Fi I know and have come to love. Without them I feel a little lost, like I’m not all here, like I’m not bringing my whole self along for the ride. And quite frankly sometimes I miss me.
So I’m calling these pieces of me off the bench, it's time for them to have a run no matter how small, they just gotta get back in the game. It might be just a barefoot festival stomp amongst the transformers and trucks in the backyard with my boys, or a moment of artistic brilliance on the back page of a Spiderman colouring book. Maybe it’s getting back on a snowboard and learning to skateboard with my son instead of sitting on the sidelines. It's booking in some yoga classes this week and getting my old tennis racket out for a hit against the wall while the baby sleeps.
No matter how small, I will see myself in all of these actions and bring these parts of me back into the light. Because… well because it feels damn good to be me sometimes, to be the real me, in real time, not as a memory of what I used to be like. Also because I want my boys to really know their mum. Not just as the house cleaning nappy changing, ass wiping, food making, cuddle giving mum person, but as the Fiona person who is their loving mother.
Some of my fondest memories of my parents are when I saw glimpses, heard stories or found photos of what my parents were like before I knew them. Their stories and travels have to some extent shaped my own adventures and achievements. My son came up to me the other day and said: “mum can you take me to climb Kilimanjaro with you next time and I’ll take you to the outer space when I go there?” It was then I also realized that sharing my whole self with my family can help inspire their own adventures, their own dreams encourage their own personalities and individualities.
Being a wife and mother has birthed some of my favourite and most treasured parts of myself, but they are not the only parts. As much as I love being a mother, it’s even better being a mother like ME.