You would never be out in the heat, at the mall, or around other germy kids.
Because if you were my firstborn, you’d be in my arms the second you let out a wail.
You would never be left to cry because I’m trying to get your siblings dressed.
But you aren’t. And you get a different version of me — but in many ways a better version.
A mom that isn’t as nervous.
A mom that isn’t as hard on herself about milestones and behavior.
A mom that knows you’re born with your personality — and isn’t easily embarrassed by tantrums.
A mom that knows how to laugh things off and is aware of how much she can love.
You don’t have all of me. But you do have a version that knows who she is as a mother. In some twisted way, you DO have more of the real me.
Gone are the days where the focus shifted at times to what I should do to look like the best mother. Now I’m confident in what works for me, and don’t care about the naysayers–and you’ll benefit from that.
So, you will have to share me my entire life.
And I can’t help but feel bad that our time gets slighted — because it’s so divided.
But my ability to love has stretched and intensified, and you’re the one that made me realize that.
Love always,
Mom
This post originally appeared on the author’s Facebook. Her book Living FULL: Winning My Battle with Eating Disorder is available on Amazon.
