Hello and welcome to another week at Humbly Courageous! If your read last week’s post you will know that I was facing a pretty big change regarding my younger son. I can now say he has his driver’s license, and I have survived that monumental milestone in both of our lives. It’s a happy time for him, so that makes me happy for sure. A few tears were certainly shed on my end as I dropped him off at school for the last time. I’m having to regroup and realize a huge part of who I was in a sense is over. As my mom put it, “you wouldn’t have it any other way”, and she’s absolutely right. I wouldn’t, but we know pain and joy can coexist. It’s a gift and a joy to see your children grow into their own, and I don’t take that for granted. It’s also a little painful to let go.
Most of my life I was stuck in an “identity crisis”. For 44 years, I didn’t fully know who I was because doctors couldn’t diagnose my disability. I longed to know my true self, but was instead labeled as “unidentified” by my doctors, well into my adult years. I’ve been struggling to figure out why this life change with my kids growing up has hit me so hard. I haven’t felt myself, and just have been feeling so sad and unsettled. I know that is not uncommon for many mothers to feel this way. Our identities get so intertwined with our children that we can forget in large part who we are. We can forget what used to make us tick before all the responsibilities that come with parenthood.
When I became a mom at 29, I was still “unidentified”, but suddenly I did have an identity and my “identity crisis” didn’t seem quite as glaring. Don’t get me wrong, I still very much wanted to know what caused my physical struggles, but it just was slightly less pressing. I was a mother. I had a place and a real name to call myself. I was no longer Amy who was unidentified. I became Amy, a mom.
I’m well aware that motherhood doesn’t end when our children become more independent. They still need their parents to help them navigate life somewhat, but I know from experience with my oldest son, once they start driving, things certainly shift.
If you’ve been following my blog for some time you know that I talk about how when I was diagnosed at 44, I felt like I was finally, formally introduced to myself, and I was able to move out of that chronic identity crisis cycle that I was stuck in. In a sense it was like a “rebirth “. I don’t mean that on some deep level, I just use that word as an illustration for what that moment felt like for me when I received that phone call with my genetic tests results. The world became a whole lot brighter for me that day, even though I was diagnosed with a slowly progressive, degenerative muscle disease. I had a lot of aquatinting to do with myself.
In a way, I feel like I’m at that same kind of crossroads now that my boys are needing me less, at least in a daily sense of care. I need to get back to doing the things I love more often. This past weekend I picked up my paint brushes again and I was immediately calmer. That’s how you know you’ve found your passion, when things calm you or motivate you. Before my husband and I had kids, we made a list of all the things we enjoyed doing together, so that one day, we could look back on those things when the time came to shift our focus. I imagine when we pull that out sometime soon we will laugh at a few of those things, but also maybe we will remember some of those things that sparked joy for us.
For the next two years while we still have our youngest at home, I will soak in those moments we do get with him and try to appreciate the changing tide of our relationship. It’s kind of fun to watch your children come into who they were created to be. Scary sometimes, but exciting too. It takes humble courage to move out of a space that you once devoted your whole being to, but when we step out of that space, we step back into living out our purpose for life too. 💚
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