You know you’re not in a great place when you cry over: A) your favorite podcast hosts breaking up the act B) the last session of your pelvic floor therapy C) the opening of ‘Barbie: Big City, Big Dreams’ or D) all of the above. This is the kind of adult quiz I never planned on taking, but here I am, buried under the rubble of an illusion about who I was, who I am, and who I thought I’d be.
As I sit in the Target parking lot, surrounded by the silence of the night, I feel the weight of loneliness bearing down on me. I’ve been trying to fill the void with podcasts, therapy sessions, and even a van (yes, I drive a van now), but it’s just not the same. I miss the carefree days of my youth, when I was a young woman with big dreams and an even bigger attitude. I miss the freedom to be me, without the weight of responsibility and expectation.
The author is no longer leaking pee all the time, but the physical therapy has ended, and I’m left to navigate the complexities of adulthood alone. The memories of my younger self, the ones I thought were long buried, are now resurfacing, and I’m struggling to reconcile the person I was with the person I’ve become.
I pick up my phone to text a fellow mama who knew me when I was built more like Barbie (even if my attitude has always been solidly in the Skipper camp). “I think I’m losing my mind,” I type. And then delete. “I feel like I’m not a person anymore.” Type; delete. “Are you ever just massively lonely?” Type; delete. Type again. Sit with the load of this implicit confession. Send.
The Loneliness of Motherhood
Loneliness is a loaded word, one that carries the weight of a thousand nights of broken sleep, the breadth of hundreds of miles driven between appointments and activities that are not mine, and the depth of my guilt at daring to use such a word to describe what a full and privileged life. But what does it mean to be lonely in a world where we’re constantly connected? Where we have the ability to reach out to others at any moment, and yet, we still feel isolated and disconnected?
As a mother, I’ve learned to navigate the complexities of loneliness in a way that’s unique to our community. We’re often expected to be the pillars of strength, the rock that holds everything together, but what about when we need to lean on someone else? What about when we’re struggling to find our own identity amidst the chaos of motherhood?
A Text Exchange That Changed Everything
And then there was the text exchange that changed everything. My friend’s reply, “Every. Damn. Day,” was like a breath of fresh air in the midst of my despair. It was a reminder that I’m not alone, that there are others out there who feel the same way. It was a chance for me to share my story, to be vulnerable and honest about my struggles, and to find comfort in the knowledge that I’m not the only one.
As I sat in the Target parking lot, feeling the weight of loneliness lift, I realized that I’d been searching for the wrong thing. I’d been searching for validation, for acceptance, for someone to tell me that I’m okay. But what I really needed was connection. I needed to remember that I’m not just a mom, I’m a person, with thoughts, feelings, and desires.
Remembering the Past
As I scrolled through the text exchange, I was transported back to a time when life was simpler. When my biggest worry was whether or not I’d get a callback for a play, not whether or not I’d make it to the next PTA meeting. When my friends and I would spend hours talking about our dreams and aspirations, not just our daily routines.
I remembered the time we nearly got in a bar fight with members of the British Navy because we said they sounded like Shrek, and the time we had coffee across from Rider Strong at a cafe in the East Village. I remembered the time I bought that lucky off-the-shoulder striped tunic for seven dollars at H&M and wore it absolutely everywhere.
These memories, though they may seem trivial to some, are a reminder that I’m more than just a mom. I’m a person with a past, with experiences, with connections. And it’s these connections that will help me navigate the complexities of loneliness, that will help me find my way back to myself.
Conclusion
Lifting the loneliness is not about erasing the pain or pretending it doesn’t exist. It’s about acknowledging it, accepting it, and finding a way to move forward. It’s about connecting with others, with our past, and with ourselves. It’s about remembering that we’re not alone, that we’re all in this together.
As I sit here, reflecting on my journey, I realize that I’ve been given a gift. A gift of connection, of community, and of self-discovery. And it’s this gift that I hope to pass on to others, in the hopes that they too will find comfort in the knowledge that they’re not alone.
The Power of Connection
Connection is the key to lifting the loneliness. It’s the key to finding our way back to ourselves, to remembering who we are and what we want. It’s the key to understanding that we’re not just individuals, but part of a larger community, a community that’s connected and strong.
So the next time you find yourself feeling lonely, remember that you’re not alone. Reach out to someone, anyone, and let them know that you’re struggling. Let them know that you need connection, that you need to remember who you are and what you want.
And when they respond with a message like “Every. Damn. Day,” remember that you’re not alone, that you’re part of a larger community, a community that’s connected and strong.
The Journey Continues
The journey of lifting the loneliness is not a one-time event, but a continuous process. It’s a process of connection, of self-discovery, and of growth. It’s a process of remembering who we are, what we want, and where we’re going.
So let’s continue on this journey together, one step at a time. Let’s find comfort in the knowledge that we’re not alone, that we’re connected and strong. Let’s remember that we’re part of a larger community, a community that’s here to support and uplift us.
And when the loneliness comes, as it inevitably will, let’s face it head-on. Let’s acknowledge it, accept it, and find a way to move forward. Let’s lift the loneliness, together.
