yes. i have a one-year-old now 🥹

which feels slightly insane to type because the last time i was really writing here, my life looked very different.

actually, a lot looks different now…including this place.

feelings & forward is now but maybe that’s just me.

i could probably give you a very thoughtful explanation for the change. something about evolving and motherhood and entering a new season and wanting this space to reflect where i am now.

and yes, all of that would be true.

but really, i think i just wanted somewhere to put my thoughts again, without the pressure to have answers or a lesson.

just thoughts, because apparently i have a lot of them 🫣

but anyways…

i was washing the dishes, and somewhere between rinsing a plate and wiping down the counter, i had one of those moments where i looked around and thought: wow.

i’m really living in answered prayers.

i married my best friend.

we have a son who is healthy, happy, funny, and thriving.

we’re healthy.

well…mostly.

my mental health and i have been in a long-term, very complicated relationship.

but still, i’m good.

and lately i’ve been thinking a lot about what it actually means when i say that.

because sometimes when someone asks, “how are you?” the socially acceptable answer is: i’m good. how are you?

and we keep it pushing.

but the other day, my best friend asked me how i was doing, and instead of giving her the polished answer, i gave her the compact version of what was actually happening in my head.

some of it wasn’t pretty, and some of it was heavy.

and somehow, at the end of all of it, i still said:

but i’m good.

and i meant it.

i think we’ve gotten really bad at allowing ourselves or others to be complicated.

people act like if you’re struggling, you must be unhappy.

if you’re exhausted by motherhood, you must be tired of being a mother.

if you’re grateful, you shouldn’t complain.

if this is the life you prayed for, how dare any part of it feel hard?

but… why can’t two things be true?

actually, a lot of things can be true.

i can be exhausted by motherhood and literally not be tired of being a mom.

those are very different things.

i can feel overwhelmed by my life and still really, really love my life.

i can have a brain that makes things heavier than they need to be sometimes and still know that i am incredibly blessed.

postpartum taught me that in a way i don’t think anything else ever could.

there were moments after having my son that got dark.

really dark.

there was anxiety. there were thoughts that scared me. there were moments where i didn’t fully understand what was happening inside my own head…i’m not ready to unpack all of that here though.

maybe i will be eventually.

maybe i won’t 🤷🏽‍♀️

but what that season forced me to understand was that one feeling does not automatically cancel out another.

i could be having some of the hardest thoughts i’d ever experienced and still know, without a single doubt, that becoming a mom was one of the most beautiful things that had ever happened to me.

the best thing that ever happened to me.

i could be scared by my own brain and be completely in love with my baby.

i could wonder if i was doing any of this right while caring so deeply about doing it right.

a few months ago i read something along the lines of, good moms worry about whether they’re good moms.

i held onto that one because maybe the worrying wasn’t always evidence that i was failing.

maybe sometimes it was evidence of how much i cared.

i think postpartum also changed the way i approach figuring myself out.

i used to think every feeling needed an answer. ✨ enter type A + eldest daughter stigmas✨

why do i feel like this? where is this coming from? what does this mean?

how do i fix it?

and listen, sometimes we absolutely need to figure things out.

but sometimes?

eh, i don’t know.

sometimes i think the thought just needs somewhere to go.

sometimes i don’t need to solve how i’m feeling. i just need to acknowledge it.

like, okay. this is how i feel today and if there’s nothing to do about it…keep going.

having a newborn probably helped with that too because when you’re sleep deprived, working, hormonal, feeding a tiny human around the clock and trying to remember the last time you showered, deep psychological breakthroughs are not always at the top of the agenda.

sometimes you are quite literally just trying to make it to tomorrow.

and tomorrow comes.

then another one. then another one.

and somehow the baby is one.

and you’re standing in the kitchen washing dishes while your husband gives him a bath, thinking about how fast life just happened.

maybe that’s part of why i wanted to come back here and why i needed this space to become something different.

i don’t always have an answer anymore.

actually, i’m not sure i want one.

i just want somewhere to think.

somewhere i can say things before i’ve figured out exactly what they mean.

somewhere a thought can be complicated or unfinished or contradictory or deeply serious or maybe completely unserious.

somewhere i can write something today and come back six months from now and chuckle at the shit i said.

because that can happen too.

i think social media has made us feel like we’re supposed to present ourselves after we’ve figured everything out.

here’s what happened.

here’s what i learned.

here’s who i am now.

and add a nice little bow to it.

meanwhile, most of us are somewhere in the middle.

i know i am.

so maybe you’ll read something here and think, girl, what the fuck are you even trying to say?

fair 😂

sometimes my brain and my mouth aren’t always communicating that well, so i understand.

maybe you’ll completely disagree with me.

also fair.

or maybe every now and then you’ll read something and think: wait…me too.

i think that’s enough for me.

because after all these years of therapy, one thing i do know is that it can be healthy to put your thoughts somewhere.

responsibly, of course.

so that’s what i’m doing here.

thinking out loud.

i’ll probably change my mind sometimes.

and probably overthink the rest.

but right now?

i’m good.

not because everything is perfect. not because everything in my head is easy. not because i’ve figured anything out.

i’m just… good.

and maybe those things are allowed to exist together.

but maybe that’s just me.