Before I was a mom, I was young. I felt young, I acted young, I did young things. I played outside, I slid down slides. I rode my bike and skinned my knees. I ran.
But it’s difficult to run now that I’m a mom.
Before I was a mom, I was awkward. I crushed on boys who didn’t notice me. I hated my body. I embarrassed easily. I found friends though. I found my voice and it was loud.
But not as loud since I became a mom.
Before I was a mom, I said yes a lot. I gave too generously. I did favours for people because that’s what friends did. Turned out, some of them weren’t my friends. Still, I said yes a lot.
But not so many yes’s now that I’m a mom.
Before I was a mom, I was energetic. I went to parties, and the occasional concert. I talked about issues. I drank and I smoked. I experienced life. I studied. I worked hard.
But not nearly as hard as I work as a mom.
Now that I’m a mom, I don’t feel as young, but I still slide down slides. My voice isn’t as loud, but I celebrate my body. I don’t give as generously, but I still say yes. And I don’t go to concerts or parties, but I’m still experiencing life.