My husband asked me this weekend if I’m having a midlife crisis.
The short answer is, probably. But I prefer to think of it as a #momlifecrisis.
What prompted his question was my not-at-all-impromptu decision to color my hair for summer. To be fair, I’ve been toying with the idea of fantasy hair long before that trendy term was coined.
You think I agonized about wearing shorts this summer? Imagine all the indecision and second-guessing about taking the plunge with “oil slick” hair.
Am I too old? Too boring? Too insecure to pull it off? What would my friends think? My co-workers? My boss? My parents?
And then I thought about the bigger questions – the ones that I hardly ever pause as a mom to even consider. What do I want? Will it make me happy? And do I even care what anyone else thinks anymore?
Those questions are harder to answer. Over the past 5 years, I have lost myself in the weeds of motherhood more than once, momentarily losing sight of what is important. But I’ve always found a turning point too, coming back to “myself,” whoever myself happened to be for that stage of motherhood.
No one told me before becoming a mom that one of my biggest struggles of mom life would be navigating a new identity, not just once but over and over again.
I wasn’t a mom. Then Easton was born and in a second, it all changed. For days that turned into months that stretched into years, I was only a mom: My identity existed around my children; there was no “me” without “them.” At daycare, I wasn’t Kate – I was “Easton’s mom.” And I didn’t know the names of so many of the acquaintances I passed daily in the hallways except by whose moms they were too.
I watched my baby, Easton, grew into a toddler and then a preschooler, and we added a newborn to the family, Sawyer, who in the blink of an eye started crawling, walking, talking, growing into the spitfire toddler that he is today. Easton is starting kindergarten this fall and Sawyer thinks he should be too, 2 going on 5 and determined to test every limit of patience that I have.
Sometime last year, when I knew for sure that Sawyer was our last baby, the one who completed our family, something shifted inside me. Maybe it was the (honesty here) relief that comes from knowing some milestones will be the “last” for me as a mom. No more routine middle-of-the-night wake-ups. No more breastfeeding. Someday soon, no more diapers. There is bittersweet freedom in these “lasts.”
The choice was in front of me: I could spend my days mourning the loss of moments I won’t ever have again, or I could embrace the freedom and seize the opportunity for something new.
So here I am today, sitting in the salon chair letting the talented @hairbykristenlynn transform my hair and maybe my identity. Is this a midlife crisis? If it is, I’ll take it: I am more confident and comfortable in my skin than I have ever been before. And while I still care sometimes what everyone else thinks, I’m trying not to let it rule my life like I used to.
Because: nothing is permanent. Hair grows. Color fades. Babies turn into toddlers and someday teenagers. The stage of motherhood you’re in evolves into something new.
There is nothing in my life more wholly fulfilling than becoming a mother. But re-finding myself this past year has been a gift that I gave myself after finally realizing that I am worth it: not just as Easton and Sawyer’s mommy but as just me, too. Mom-life crisis or not, I’m finally ready to live in color and embrace what makes me happy. Today that’s my shimmery new rainbow strands.
