One Mother, Two Women

There’s a “me” I’m worried my kids will never know, and sometimes the thought breaks my heart.

If they had seen me during a work trip in Los Angeles last week – laughing, joking, playfully searching for keys in golf carts on the Fox Studios lot – I wonder if they would have recognized me.

Would they have recognized me in easy conversation with total strangers, and even celebrities? Would they have recognized me speaking with some authority on my work, or with an opinion on current events?

Would they have known the contented, confident woman before them was the same mom who always seems to strained and stressed at home?

What breaks my heart is that I am both women, but rarely have the opportunity to be both at the same time.

Motherhood and family life, though rewarding, is difficult. For every moment of blind happiness, it seems there are twenty more in which my children hear me instructing, scolding, directing, fretting, reasoning, and yes, even crying.

I’m worried they don’t – and won’t – see a woman who feels accomplished and worthy and independent. A woman who cracks jokes, loves to laugh, is up for an adventure, whose soul is stirred by words and thoughts.

I am struggling with the dichotomy of who I am, and who I need to be, in the different places of my life.

I don’t know if – or how – I can bring them together; I don’t know the practicality or possibility of it.

I just know that there are times when one half of me misses the other, and I wish more than anything to be whole.