29/03/2026
I was looking at this photo of me and my daughter recently. I think she was about one.
At first glance, it looks like a happy moment. And it definitely was, in its own way.
But when I really sit with it now, I know more. I see more. I can see behind my mask.
I see a version of me who was exhausted.
Trying to keep all the balls in the air.
Mumming, being a partner, working.
Smiling, but barely holding it together underneath.
Trying to be the perfect mum.
The perfect partner.
But feeling like I was failing in all areas of my life.
I remember how alone I felt, which is weird because I always had people around and was out doing things.
Like I couldnโt let anyone see the full truth of how hard I was actually finding it and that I didn't feel like I was coping after everything I had experienced.
Like I had to keep showing up as โokayโ even when I wasnโt.
Like I should be grateful for such a beautiful little girl.
So much of that time felt quiet and heavy.
And I felt invisible.
Looking back now, I can see just how much I was carrying on my own and makes me sad remembering.
There was so much in that moment that no one else could see.
๐ถ๐ ๐๐ ๐ฐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐, ๐ฐ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐'๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐.
And somehow, I kept going even on the days it felt really heavy to my own detriment.
I have so much more compassion for that version of me now. I have so much more knowledge now and can actually name my experiences for what they were - grief & loss, birth trauma and perinatal anxiety.
I would love to go back and give my new Mumma part a big hug and let her know it is going to be ok no matter what happens in your world๐.
๐ง๐
๐๐ฎ๐ป๐ป๐๐ท
PS: And yes, I would love to go back to how I was physically as well but that's another post all together๐.