I get that you feel like nobody sees you. Because really? They probably don’t.
I used to take for granted that lady at the grocery store, pushing a shopping cart with three children hanging off of it while they clamored loudly over whose turn it was to pick out the cereal.
I used to wonder how she got to where she was. I took her for granted, if I even noticed her at all.
Now, I realize that strangers hardly ever LOOK at me unless my child is causing a ruckus. And if they are friendly enough to randomly chirp up and say hi, it’s usually the standard platitudes about how old my littles are, how cute they are, etc…
Don’t get me wrong, it’s so nice when someone does that. But man, it would be nice to feel like people looked at me and thought, now there’s a woman whose opinion I’d love to hear. There’s a lady who has it all together. There’s a lady who is strong and capable.
Truthfully, though, even if they did, I would feel unworthy of such attention.
Because it is so, so much easier to feel loved and worthy when there is more coming in than there is going out everyday. When you and others value everything you do unquestionably.
But it’s the reversed currency in our lives that only parenting can bring, where you feel emptied on a nearly daily basis, that teaches us that it’s actually in the seasons of depletion that can love grow.
Where you realize it takes more than red roses and candied sweets to hold you together. Where you realize that sometimes, you have to be your own biggest cheerleader and friend, because you’ve only got you when you’re awake, rocking babies at 2 a.m.
When you are taught through experience that love is not just an action, but it’s also an education. And you will yourself to learn how to be molded, to love when even when it hurts and you’re bone tired and you’re struggling.
You learn to love even when you yourself don’t feel very loved.
I was putting the kiddos to bed last night. My middle child was teetering over to the edge of a breakdown because it was the end of the day, and everyone’s nerves were fried. And I brought her back from that edge in the ways that only a parent could.
As I brushed her hair from her face, this refreshing and empowering thought came into my mind that actually, yea, sometimes, I do know what I’m doing.
It’s like these metaphysical pieces lock in to place when I remember that I CAN do this. Love grows inside of me when I remember to value and cherish the work that I do each day; to hold on to it preciously but with the most ferocious iron grip I can muster.
It doesn’t seem like much at first. It doesn’t put the laundry away, it doesn’t clean the house, it doesn’t get the bottle of sage that your child dumped all over the floor cleaned up.
But it’s when my my safety tether is broken, when there is no padding to protect me from how much it takes to truly love my littles and my husband to completion, and I’m talking messy, imperfect love even when they don’t come close to deserving it, that I learn that love grows deeper when my soil is fertile and when the watering is plenty.
And you are both of those things, momma.
When you let love take hold of you and it grows in you, you are like a lush garden in the bloom of spring. When you are a spring to be drawn from, you are an endless river that churns mightily.
And in, your children find peace and strength, hope and perseverance.
Because you love, you are loved.
You cover them – even when they don’t deserve it. And your love never ceases, never fails.
HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY, MOMMA.
***
This article originally appeared at Ashley’s blog, published with permission.
