What I Would Tell My Old Self Before Becoming a Mom

 

What I Would Tell My Old Self Before Becoming a Mom

I think about her sometimes — the girl I used to be before I became “mama.”
The girl who had full control over her day, who thought motherhood would be hard but manageable, who had no clue how much would change… and how fast.

There’s so much I wish I could tell her.

I’d tell her that motherhood will crack her open in ways she can’t imagine.
That some mornings, she’ll wake up and already feel tired — not from lack of sleep, but from giving so much of herself over and over again.
But I’d also tell her that every single piece of love she pours out will find its way back to her — in tiny fingers gripping her hand, in sleepy “mama” whispers, in unexpected cuddles during chaos.

I’d tell her that her body will change, and so will her soul.
Stretch marks, saggy skin, a new softness in places she used to criticize — but also a new strength in places she never knew she had.

I’d tell her that there will be lonely days — really lonely ones.
That she might feel invisible. Forgotten.
That the weight of doing it alone, or holding everything together for everyone else, might feel crushing sometimes.

But I’d also tell her she’s stronger than she knows.
That one day, she’ll catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror — hair a mess, baby on her hip — and realize she’s doing it. Not perfectly, but beautifully.

I used to think 22 was my prime time.

I had freedom, a routine, no one calling me “mama” every 10 seconds. I thought I was grown, that I had life figured out. I thought that was when I’d feel the most like me.

But looking back now, I see how much I didn’t know — about love, patience, sacrifice, and strength.

Motherhood didn’t take my prime away. It just redefined it.

Now I am in my prime. My "Mommy era". A season I never planned for, never expected — but one I needed in ways I couldn’t have imagined.

It’s not always pretty. It’s not always peaceful.
But it’s mine.

This version of me — tired, stretched thin, but so full of love — is the strongest I’ve ever been.

I didn’t lose myself in motherhood.
I met myself.

I’d remind 25 year old Angie that she’s still her — even when she doesn’t feel like it.
That the dreams she had before the diapers still matter.
That her softness isn’t weakness.
That she’s allowed to rest. To cry. To ask for help.

I’d tell her she’s not failing.
She’s just growing into someone new — someone braver, softer, and more powerful than she’s ever been.

So if you’re reading this and you need to hear it too:
You’re not alone.
You’re not behind.
You’re not doing it wrong.

You’re becoming.

 We are becoming who we were meant to be, and the best part now is that we have our mini(s) to be apart of the journey. 🖤

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💌 A Message to You

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You don’t have to hold it all in.
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I’m listening. 🤍

— Anjelize

The life of curls and chaos