Dear Broken Mama

Dear Broken Mama,

Today was hard, wasn’t it?

Life has thrown you some curveballs, and you’re struggling just to keep up. You miss the days when things were simpler, when things felt more carefree. You feel like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, and it’s suffocating. You wonder how you ended up here, so darn tired all of the time. 

…You feel stuck. Overwhelmed. Ashamed. Exhausted.

Maybe it’s choices that you’ve made in the past. You have regrets. You’re afraid that you’ll be judged if you’re completely honest with yourself. Pretending seems much simpler than facing your brokenness head on, but pretending is exhausting. Acknowledging your brokenness means you’re responsible for trying to fix it, and that’s scary. The gap between where you are and where you want to be feels impossibly far, and you long for a “do-over.”  

…There’s still time. You’re not done yet.

Maybe you’re flying solo in this motherhood thing. It’s so lonely, right? It feels like quicksand sometimes, like everyone but you has a helping hand. It’s stifling to feel like you never get a break. You desperately want to give your child the world, and it’s tough to accomplish that with the resources you have. You look at other mamas, and they all seem to have it together. They make it look so easy.

…Don’t be fooled. None of us knows what we’re doing, Mama.   

Maybe you’re trying to break a cycle that leaves you unfulfilled. You’re tired of the physical and emotional roller coaster, from high to low and back again. It’s a person. It’s a substance. It’s the proverbial “monkey on your back.” You feel as if you can’t escape. You desperately yearn to be the role model for your child that you never had. You are determined to protect your baby from the hurt that you’ve endured. Most of all, you want to trust that things can get better. 

… They can. 

Maybe it is a diagnosis. Depression. Anxiety. Eating Disorder. Cancer. Infertility. It’s terrifying to feel a loss of control over something so important. Something other people take for granted. The harder you try to grasp control, the more quickly it seems to slip through your fingers. You’re struggling to make sense of it all. You’re trying to be strong for everyone, but you feel weak. You are desperate for a friend, but so afraid that she might walk away if you “let her in”… 

… What if she doesn’t?

What you don’t know is that we’re all broken mamas in some way. Some of us pretend. Some of us deny. And some of us embrace our brokenness like a badge of honor. I know that you are terrified to be vulnerable, but vulnerability is the only way to begin healing the brokenness that haunts you.

If we’re honest, Dear Mama, we’ve all been you. Some of us are still there. 

…I know that you’ve cried more than you’d like to admit. You feel like you’re treading water most days. You desperately wish that life had a “pause” button, so that you could catch your breath. 

Dear Broken Mama, please don’t give up just yet. You’re creating the beautiful story of an Overcomer – a legacy that your child will remember as strength, perseverance and love. Today might be the first day of your new story, if you allow it. You are so worth it, Mama.  

I’m here. We are all here. 

Sincerely,

Your Tribe