My Writing. My World.
I am tired of feeling like what I want doesn’t matter.
Tired of not feeling heard.
Tired of coming in last place to anything and everything else that is going on in my family.
Just because I am The Mom.
I know I am not alone in feeling this way. (Please, someone, tell me I’m not alone in feeling this way, for the love of God.)
I am suddenly overwhelmed and feeling woefully ill-equipped to be your mother, sweet girl.
I feel now much like I felt when you were a newborn and we were leaving the hospital: When I looked around at all the nurses who were actually letting me walk out of the hospital with you, and wondered who was going to teach me how to do this.
