Identities are fascinating to study. We cannot see them in our passing reflections nor hold them steady in our hands, yet we know they are there. They live deep within us, fused to our core, influencing everything from our understanding of ourselves to how we see the world.
Yet, despite their omnipresence in our lives, our identities are impermanent and ever-evolving. They fluctuate with the seasons and change entirely as we pass through new chapters of our lives. These overhauls of who we are can leave us confused, unfulfilled, and even helpless in the face of life. It’s probably one of those uniquely human experiences we can all relate to, even if we can’t always find the words to describe it.
Looking back, I can pinpoint triggers of significant changes in my identity: Leaving my tiny hometown to attend undergrad in a new place. Watching friends suffer the consequences of our careless lifestyle. Becoming a history teacher in the NYC public high schools. All these things changed my perspectives, priorities, and, at the end of the day, me.
But nothing, and I mean nothing, shifted my identity like becoming a mom.
Becoming …Nothing? Poof, my identity was gone.
Nothing prepares you for the overnight, light-switch-flick of an impact that becoming a parent has on your life and identity. I don’t know if it’s possible to explain what it feels like to someone who has not experienced it for themselves, but a few simple sentences should suffice for this discussion of identities.
Becoming a parent impacts everyone differently, and I'm sure my experience is not representative of all new parents. But for me, becoming a mom meant a shift from a world based on myself to one revolving entirely around someone else.
I don't mean to imply that I was some overly self-centered person before my son was born, or that I'm an entirely selfless saint now. But once my son came into the world, I didn't think about myself anymore.
Any thoughts of my identity or the personal successes I’d been chasing for years just…fell out of my head. It felt more like my identity entirely disappeared than became something new. Poof, gone. I didn’t know who I was anymore. And, at first, I didn’t really care.
In those early months, thoughts of myself were so sparse that I actually forgot to bring a change of clothes on our first weekend away with the baby. I packed an entire duffle bag for our son but didn’t bring one item for myself. I felt like an idiot when we got there and realized what I’d done. But, really, that’s the level of not thinking of yourself (and utter exhaustion) we are talking about when you first bring a new baby home.
Becoming “Just a Mom”
Sometime around 6 or 7 months after our son was born, I started to think about myself again. Once I started paying attention, I struggled immensely with how much I had changed. I’d always been very social and outgoing, but now I had little in common with my friends and felt strange in my own skin. I felt like I used to be this really fun, cool person, but now I had no idea who I was. I was pretty sure I was no longer fun or cool, though.
I started thinking about the professional success I’d pursued so intensely before my son was born. Right up to the delivery room, I didn’t plan to become a permanent stay-at-home mom. I’d gone to school at night and worked two jobs to put myself through my Masters. I was a very good history teacher with my sights set on becoming a school administrator or educational policy leader. I cared (maybe too much) about teaching my students and preparing them for academic and professional circles after high school.
I felt like something was wrong with me. Why didn’t I care anymore? Sure, motherhood was a noble top priority, but it felt like I was too quick to drop everything I’d worked for. I was judging myself, in a way, for no longer being the person that cared about professional goals. On some level, I thought everyone else was judging me, too.
I hated that I'd meet people or see old friends and they'd ask what I was doing these days, only for me to tell them I wasn't doing anything anymore. I was "just a mom" now, and all that other stuff had gone out the window. No matter how much I loved being a stay-at-home mom, I couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed about the transition.
A Mid-Professional-Life Crisis?
Part of me wanted to prove that I could still be successful, even though I was this new strange person without a job. I am so lucky to have the partner that I do in my husband, who helped me realize that pursuing my interests alongside motherhood was a healthy choice.
I started by considering my experiences and realizing three things:
I always loved to write but never felt good enough to make a lucrative job out of it. Now, though, I didn’t really need it to be lucrative. So, I might as well go for it.
Most of my frustrations with teaching were related to poor management. I had nearly a decade of management experience before becoming a teacher, and I was confident in my abilities in that sphere.
I was a damned good teacher, and I could always fall back on that.
You might think, well, those are all wildly different things; which one did you pick? And the unfortunate answer is all of them! I was in such a mixed-up place that I simultaneously attempted to pursue all three of those interests. I was unfocused and more confused than ever about the person I was becoming and this new identity I was developing.
Over the next six months, I would:
Start writing my first novel
Begin exploring short story writing and submitting short stories to publications
Become an online teacher with a remote education company
Ghostwrite for blogs (first as a freelancer and then hired by an agency)
Open my own company to help small businesses develop blogs and an online presence (this didn’t work out)
Open my own curriculum and consulting business for teachers (this did work out…sort of)
What a list! I was clearly going down the rabbit hole, trying too many things and moving on to the next too fast. I left the education company because online teaching was unfulfilling. After a month or two of work, I realized I didn't have enough time or dedication for the company I opened to help small businesses get online, so I closed that down too.
The curriculum and education consulting business took off quickly, but I recently wound down my clients to pursue my writing instead. It was a great source of supplemental income for a while, though, and I might pick it back up again someday.
Through all of it, I kept writing. That book I started? Now finished and in the revising stages. The short stories? I’m currently working on a collection inspired by my hometown. I also blog regularly and have recently joined the Medium community to connect with more readers and writers.
I hate sharing long-winded personal stories, but I promise I’m getting to the point. From the outside looking in, this is a crazy saga of confusion and potentially poor decisions. But the more I share it with others, the more I realize how typical (and relatable) it is.
The Reality of Identity
Everyone goes through transitional periods that impact them the way becoming a mom affected me. And when that happens, it can feel like your wheels are spinning, and you don’t know how to get moving again. Eventually, though, you’ll pull yourself out of the rut. Your identity will level out, and just like that, you’ll know how to be you again.
My whirlwind pursuit of too-many interests landed me in the happiest place I’ve ever been. I’m not only getting to know and love this new self of mine, but I’m spending my days doing the two most rewarding things I’ve ever done: raising my family and writing (finally, writing!).
It was difficult for me to let go of the person I used to be, but once I did, I became free to be the person I am now. And I actually really like this person! So, if you’re in the midst of a colossal identity transition, know that I see you, and it will get better. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Keep moving forward, and you’ll be there soon.
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