You are what you repeatedly do

Are we? Are we are repetitious actions or can we be what we summarize to ourselves? Is it possible to create your own identity or is identity only in reflection of what other people see? I wonder what other people see when they see me.

I’ve moved around so much that I’m just fragments of stages of my life. To me, they create a kaleidoscope of experience and depth but to others, they can only see that me that is present.

So what’s better is the better question? I suppose it is a freedom to not live by the constraints of the past – but then again, what do you do when you’ve turned into something and/or someone you don’t recognize?

Why am I being so pensive, you ask? Well, I’m a stay-at-home mom – by choice. I love it. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else right now. My heart aches for the day that I can’t… yada yada yada. But there’s a flip side – I’m just a mom.

I say that carefully. I love being a mom but somewhere along the way, I’ve traded every piece of me for that identity and my fear is that that is all people can see now. It’s as if I gave the best parts of myself, draining me, to these perfect littles. And oh, some days if I could sign up to just stay in this moment with them forever as just their mom and that’s it, I would. But that doesn’t stop me wondering- where did the rest of me go?

It gets better doesn’t it? We get those fragments back as the kids get older but do they ever really fit back in place again – or are we just supposed to pretend as though they do?

Just chasing my tail on this lazy Sunday morning.

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