“I just drove off to nowhere and was open to going anywhere.
Anywhere but home.
I grabbed my keys and wanted any excuse to step out.
I couldn’t breathe.
So, I walked out and drove off.
Drove and drove not wanting to look back.
Not wanting to think about being needed by anyone and everyone.
Not wanting to be asked for another snack, or a toy or dinner or to wipe a butt or to wash hands, or to put on socks.
I didn’t want to be called mom; I didn’t want to be called babe.
I just wanted to be me — unattached to any title that meant being needed by someone else.
I didn’t want to be their everything.
At this moment I just wanted to be me.
Alone.
Nowhere.
No purpose.
Nothing.
I just wanted to be alone.
I drove off, trying desperately not to think twice about what I left behind at home because my mind desperately needed a breather.
Living these days was like breathing just enough to survive but never enough to really catch my breath.
Never enough to stabilize my heartbeat, never enough to quench my thirst for air.
Living these days feels like I’m constantly walking on eggshells.
Always being needed for something by someone is so hard.
A kid, a husband, a sibling, a parent.
It’s.
So.
Hard.
You easily lose sight of yourself because you are not the priority right now.
By the end of the day, you are just re-winding yourself to do it all over again.
And then even at the end of the day, you have your spouse who is expecting attention from you after a long day at work, and that’s just the way it is because that’s who you are; you’re everyone’s person… everyone but your own.
Carrying a family is exhausting.
Mentally tracking everyone’s wants and needs and likes and dislikes is draining.
You just go with the flow because no one can do it as well as you.
You know the way your baby likes his pancakes.
You know what type of cereal he likes.
You know how your husband drinks his coffee.
You know when the sheets have to be changed.
You know what can be thrown into the dryer and what can’t.
You know when they have special events at school.
You know when they need checkups and new shoes and new toothbrushes.
You know everything, and without you, it just may all fall apart.
That’s a lot of pressure.
It’s a huge burden for one person to carry.
A mental load that is simply immeasurable.
So, with that, I drove off and I couldn’t help but think to myself: why don’t I do this more often?
Why don’t I give myself these moments before I reach this point of brokenness?
Because I feel so guilty for having these ugly feelings of brokenness.
We are so much more than our worst moments, but it’s much easier and much less painful to just dwell in them.
So, we dwell.
I allowed myself to dwell in that drive, I blasted my music and just existed for myself at that moment.
It left me feeling a little refreshed and able to breathe.
This motherhood gig is sticky, it’s messy, and it’s too much to handle sometimes.
But it’s also so much better than perfect because it’s real and it’s yours.
Motherhood is exhausting yet exhilarating and it’s okay to say that it’s both beautiful and ugly, because IT IS!”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Suka Nasrallah. You can follow her journey on Facebook. You can purchase her book, Unfiltered Truths of Motherhood: Captive & Captivated, here. Submit your own story here, and be sure to subscribe to our free email newsletter for our best stories, and YouTube for our best videos.
Read more from Suka here:
‘He is our backbone. His words comfort like a warm blanket. He tells me it will be okay, even when he knows it may not.’: Woman shares ode to ‘present’ fathers
Please Stop Judging Women For Complaining About Motherhood
Do you know someone who could benefit from reading this? SHARE this story on Facebook with family and friends.