Mourning ME

When my kids were little, people would say, “Enjoy every moment, because you’ll blink and one day they’ll be grown.”

Well, I must’ve blinked like I was in a staring contest with a dust storm, because here I am, standing in front of two fully grown adult humans… and I’m still trying to figure out how they’re my babies. The same babies who once demanded every ounce of my time, my energy, and honestly, the air I breathed. Everyone was right, twenty years disappeared in a blink.

And here’s the thing: I did enjoy every stage. I was obsessed with baby snuggles, mesmerized by their curiosity as toddlers, and surprisingly found the teenage years to be some of my favorites. Watching their independence take shape, seeing their unique personalities shine, it was magic. These two humans are, without a doubt, my whole wide world.

I poured myself into motherhood. PTO Mom. Snack Mom. Sports Mom. Travel Baseball Mom. Organic-Food Mom. Meal-Prep-Lunches-Daily Mom. But my favorite? Always-There Mom. I gladly gave up every piece of who I was as an individual and became “Stella and Cameron’s Mom.” Those years? Some of the best of my life.

Being a mom became my identity, my safe place, my purpose, and my full-time job. I made lifelong friends on ballfield bleachers, at PTO meetings, and in the chaos of school events. So much goodness came from those years, and I’ll forever be grateful.

I can still picture it like it was yesterday…lying in bed with Stella having deep, curious conversations. Watching Cameron pull out of the driveway for the first time after getting his license (me smiling on the outside, crying on the inside). The goofy car games on family road trips. Sunday dinners. Graduation day. Oh, Graduation… that one broke me a little.

And then came the curveball….moving ten hours away from my 19 and 22 year-old kids. I told myself they’d be fine. I knew they’d be fine. But I was not fine. Suddenly, I had the chance to live in a new city, meet new people, and for the first time in decades, be me. Not Stella’s Mom. Not Cam’s Mom. Not PTO President. Not Brian’s Wife. Just… me.

It sounded exciting in theory. But in reality? I didn’t want to talk to strangers. I didn’t want to make new friends. And I missed my kids so much it felt like my heart was physically breaking. The depression, anxiety, and loneliness were relentless.

Eventually, I realized something: I wasn’t just missing my kids. I was mourning the old me. The woman who’d spent decades being needed every second of every day. And so, I shifted. I let her go—not completely, but enough to make room for the new me. I read self-help books, set physical and mental goals, and started appreciating who I was becoming.

And you know what? I love her. This version of me fills her own cup first. She pours love intentionally into the people who matter. She’s healthy, she’s intentional, she doesn’t just dream, she lives those dreams.

I’m still a mom. Some days, I hop in the car and drive ten hours just for a hug. I have friends I miss like crazy, but the distance has only deepened our connection. Daily calls, “love you, girl” texts, the comfort of knowing they’ll be in my life forever. My family, always my greatest gift. Reminds me exactly why I keep striving to be the best version of myself.

I have loved both versions of me. I’m endlessly thankful for the years of being “Stella and Cam’s Mom” (and always will be). But I’m just as thankful for the woman I am now. She is strong, grateful, and living a life she once only dreamed of.

And best of all? She is ME!!!!!!!