As a mum of two who's been there, IMAGE's Dominique McMullan pens a heartfelt letter to every mum struggling with overwhelm – you're not alone.
Hey,
I saw you today. Sitting in the driver’s seat, visor down, gripping the wheel, hoping no one noticed as the tears fell out of your face. I noticed. Don’t worry, the kids were playing, oblivious in the back. I think you were trying to pull yourself together before you went in. Or maybe before you went home. Or maybe before anyone else asked you for something. I don’t know. But I recognised you.
Can I tell you something? It’s ok. You’re ok.
I don’t know what got you there. Maybe it was a morning full of tantrums and a lost shoe. Maybe he is away. Maybe you have a deadline looming. Maybe it’s the exhaustion that’s been building for months. Maybe it’s nothing and everything all at once. Maybe it’s that quiet hum of motherhood, where you’re carrying so much, and giving so much, and somehow, SOMEHOW, still feeling like it’s not quite enough.
Maybe you feel guilty for crying, because there is so much to be grateful for. There is, but you can still cry. You still *should* cry. Your body needs you to. I know you are so grateful. You love your kids so much, so exquisitely, that it hurts the ends of your fingers. And maybe you are wondering if you are failing them by finding it so hard. You’re not. My love, you are not.
You are human. And you are enough. Every messy, glorious, crying, emotional bit of you. Even on the days when you’ve shouted too much or cried too much or given too much… again. Actually, especially on those days. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you. Authentically you. That’s all your kids need. That is where the peace is.
So if you need to sit there for five more minutes, do it. Let the tears come. Try that breathing technique that you saw on Instagram. Regulate your nervous system. Tug on your ear lobe. Drink some water. Put on that song that makes you feel like yourself again. Call a friend if you can. And when you’re ready, open that car door and keep going, because that’s what you do. That’s what we do.
And know that I’ll be there with you. Because you’re not alone in this. We are all feeling the same way. There are so many of us sitting in cars. You don’t see us, but we’re here.
Love,
Dominique
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