You keep telling me I’m strong. The strongest person you’ve ever met. But most days I don’t feel strong.
I don’t even know who I am amymore. What kind of person am I now? Explorer? Wanderer? Mother? Wife? Daughter?
No longer the cat who walks by herself.
Now my arms are full of life every day and some days it’s hard to imagine anything else…and other days it’s hard to keep moving.
I try to be strong…to be solidly grounded, Responsible and practical. To hold the corners of this paper house down tightly as wind batters the rooftops. I try to look after all the odds and ends of our life. To catch up the laundry, to clean the floors and cook good food. To try and love you both as you need to be loved and still squeeze in a walk for the dog and some yoga for me.
You keep telling me I’m strong. The strongest person you’ve ever met. But some days I feel I am breaking. I can feel the weight of the wind pushing in the walls of this delicate house and I’m bending. I don’t know how to ask for help. I don’t really know what I need.
I dont’t even know who I am anymore. I don’t want to seem weak. I want to be as strong as you see me. I want to be as strong as this tiny human needs me to be.
It’s incredibly unsettling, to be needed so completely by another human. To give up hours of sleep, to let life tumble and settle into strange new patterns of living. And while the challenge of raising a little person is incredibly wonderful…it is also at times immensely difficult.
And you keep telling me I’m strong. The strongest person you’ve ever met.
So I try to be. I have to be. For this little one needs me.