If You Are Silent

Far too many mothers are silent about our pain. We have been convinced by the world that motherhood is a test of strength, that it’s supposed to hurt, to tear us apart. We’ve bought into the notion that everyone else can handle this, that all the other mothers are doing fine and that we are somehow especially weak, or broken, or wrong.

And so we are silent about our pain.

But every time we speak our truth, we create space for someone else to do the same. We discover that we are not especially weak, broken, or wrong. We find out that this system is breaking all of us - some of us slowly and some of us quickly.

The married mom is silent because she sees how hard the single mom is working.

The single mom is silent because her family is helping her.

The stay at home mom is silent because she isn’t bringing money into her household.

The working mom is silent because she should be home more.

And on and on and on it goes.

For every type of mom, for every family configuration, there is always someone struggling harder than you. There is always some reason to stay quiet, to not rock the boat.

And when you die they’ll talk about what a dedicated mother you were and how your children were your whole life. They will shrink your existence down to the care you gave to others and measure your worth by how little you cared for yourself.

Mothers are, after all, perpetual giving machines.

We are not human beings, with wants and needs, with past traumas and current struggles. We are not human beings with desires and dreams. We are not human beings who need support and community. We are not human beings who snap and break and cry and get lost and are terrified and make bad choices and fuck up and stumble and figure it out and feel guilty and crave joy and want pleasure and need laughter and enjoy sex and have fun and love deeply and create connection and breathe and live and are fully, fearfully, wonderfully made.

No.

We are mothers.

We are what our families want and need us to be, whenever and wherever they want or need it. We give and give and give and we do not ask, we do not need. We forget our self. We abandon our self. We ignore our self for so long that eventually we cannot hear that self anymore. And when we die they say that our family was our whole life because they cannot conceive of the idea that we could have a life not centered on them.

Until one mother somewhere refuses to be silent about their pain. When one mother speaks the truth the world shakes. Sometimes it’s simply a whisper in the darkness: “I want to know who I am”, or “No more”. It spreads like mist coming off a lake. It passes through furtive conversations and text messages, to online groups and social media posts, and eventually to viral articles and the email inboxes of partners, of ex-spouses, of therapists.

And nothing changes.

And everything changes.

Flames are lit, tiny flickering flames of personhood. When we speak our truth, when we are no longer silent about our pain, that is the road that leads to joy. Healing begins when we acknowledge the hurt and reach out to others. I won’t lie to you and say that the road after that is easy or smooth, but then the roads we’ve been walking aren’t either. But I will say that once you are no longer silent, once you decide that you will never be silenced again and you begin to walk the road of truth the pain has a purpose.

Our children need all of us. They need us to be our whole selves. They need and deserve mothers who stand n their truth and work to heal.

We deserve that, too.

You deserve that.

Mama, you are worthy. You were born worthy and nothing you have done, nothing that has happened to you since the moment of your birth changes your worth. Your worth is intrinsic and immutable. If you’ve been silent about your pain because you haven’t felt worthy of speaking up please know that I am here and ready to listen.

No matter how long you have been silent.

No matter the reason for your silence.

YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

There is an experience of motherhood that doesn’t hurt like this. There is a journey through motherhood that isn’t this lonely. There is a community of mothers who are also truth-tellers and who are waiting for you to join us.

Speak your truth, mama. The world needs it. Your children need it. You need it.