Losing My Identity

At one time, I was Teen Mom to a beautiful, brown-eyed, curly haired little boy.  He changed my whole world and showed me a love that I didn’t know existed inside my young, calloused heart.  He constantly wanted to be in my arms, which was quite okay with me.

Then, I was New Mom to a second precious, brown-eyed little boy.  How my heart didn’t explode from an overflowing love, I’ll never know.  He, too, wanted nothing more than to snuggle on my chest and would cry when I put him down.

I soon became Mommy to these two rambunctious balls of energy.  In fact, that was every other word out of their mouths.  Oh, how they needed me for everything – pouring cereal, tying shoes, reaching the top shelf in their closets to pull down their favorite teddy bears.

Then, as they started school, I was Momma.  But even with my change of title, they still needed me.  At this point, they were impressed with my knowledge of times tables and the water cycle.  They were both so proud to show me off to their friends as they held my hand tightly down the hallway to their classrooms.

Only a few years later, I got another title change to Mom.  I may have still been able to help with homework, but other than that, my knowledge base started to decrease.  I became much like a banker, wherein I was really only needed to fund whatever outing was planned without me.  At least I still got hugs and kisses after our bedtime prayers.

Now, as my youngest brown-eyed baby enters middle school, my label has been shortened to only Ma.  I’m not allowed in the school anymore, except for awards ceremonies and conferences.  I know that tomorrow, as I drop them off outside the school doors for the start of another school year, I’ll be lucky to even get a sideways glance, much less that hug or kiss that keeps me going.

Photo by Leslie Dobbe Photography

Who will I be now?  Who am I if I’m not needed anymore?  What is left of me?

As I slowly lose my boys to life, I realize that I’m also losing myself.