Parenthood —finding rest and re-claiming my identity

I’m back in my hammock at dusk, listening to the birds, looking up at the tree canopy — green against the blue of sky, getting bitten by mozzies and writing.

I’m writing about my experiences of 2 parental challenges — burnout and loss of identity.

I’m sharing my struggles and learnings because I want people who are experiencing the same things to know they are not alone. If you’re struggling with this stuff, there is hope!

Stuck, desperate and at the end of all tethers

This time last year I felt completely stuck, desperate and at the end of all tethers. But I have found hope and I can say it’s possible for things to change.

The truth is the journey will be up and down until I die. There will be no “Its all sorted!/I’m all sorted!” moment.

I can write about the positive steps forward and what helps, but the crash and burn moments — when the learning goes out the window and I snap at my husband and shout at the kids and hide in my bedroom under the covers — they will probably always exist. What I can say is that they are gradually becoming less frequent!

A year in the harbour

I’ve spent a year focussing on myself. At times I’ve worried my introspection and focus on myself was unjustified, selfish, indulgent. [“I should be out there doing all I can to help the brokenness of the world!”] But I have finally fully (reluctantly) come to terms with my own limitations.

So I’ve taken the boat into the harbour, stocked up on supplies, fixed the broken bits. There’s no point staying out at sea in a leaky boat with a limited supply of food and water. That’s not sustainable.

I don’t know if I’m ready to set sail yet. I will only go back out to sea if I know I’m ready. And when I do go back out, I’ll have a different map, a different approach.

Last May I started seeing a counsellor each week. I can honestly say it has changed my life.

Parental “sacrifice” — burn out

Disclaimer: parenting is a massive joy, I honestly love my kids more than it’s possible to express, and I would do it all again if I had the option to rewind.

And into the hard stuff…

Every year I make a trip to the doctors to ask for a blood test, just to check there’s nothing medical underlying my constant exhaustion. Each time the results are normal (thankfully!). Underlying that is this sense that this cannot be normal. This is no way to live. This cannot be my state of existence for the next 15 years until my kids are independent adults.

Why is it so exhausting? There are tumultuous emotions to experience and understand and manage — grief, joy, anxiety, fear. We frequently get shouted and screamed at, kicked, insulted. We get woken up through the night. We’re expected to be giver of self-less, unconditional love, teacher, psychologist and counsellor, nurse, entertainer, chauffeur, chef, judge, mediator, arbitrator, dispenser of justice, costume-maker, party-planner, cake-baker, artist, diary organiser, magician, and all-round super-hero.

When you’re also doing a paid job and managing a household it’s a big mental load.

But we carry on carrying on, because we think that’s what we have to do. We think that’s what others do. There’s huge social pressure to do all these things, and do them WELL. So I kept carrying on. Just for the record — I wasn’t doing a lot of these things well, if at all (I don’t do baking for a start).

But then the cracks started to show. I was irritable all the time. I was snappy. I got overly angry with the kids. I felt overwhelmed all the time. I felt like a shadow of myself, a hollowed out person. It got to the point where I was struggling to enjoy spending time with my kids. I dreaded the weekends, they were noisy and shouty and stressful, and full of demands.

All of me inside was screaming to hide in a dark hole for a long time. All I wanted was silence and solitude.

And the gremlins gnawed away: “You are a terrible mother for feeling these things!” / “You chose to have kids so you have no right to complain” / “Having kids is a blessing — how awful a human being you are!! / “So ungrateful!!”

If you’re a parent and are judging yourself in this way, please stop right now.

We can’t help what we feel.
We don’t need to apologize for what we feel.
We don’t need to deny what we feel.
We must not judge what we feel.

Judging myself for my experience only does harm. There is no freedom or healing in that path.

If you can relate, it’s time to take a new path. What do you need to thrive? It might be radical change. It might involve telling others what you need, asking for help and not judging yourself for it. Counselling ultimately showed me a new path, which I’ve taken, and it’s brought me freedom. I’m still struggling with the energy levels, but I’m way back from the edge and making progress. As I said, it’s a lifelong journey.

Radical rest

We talk about radical self-care. Radical rest is my new thing. Rest looks different for different people. For me, it’s naps, hammock time, walking in nature, lying under trees, writing, reading, swimming. But mostly napping. I need this. So I talk to my husband about how we can work things so I can get the rest I need (and likewise for him).

What mostly challenges my desire for rest is the comparison narrative in my head “Other parents don’t rest, they work.”/ “Other people spend their day off doing jobs, they’re heroes. You’re just lazy.” / “Other people can manage life without resting so much, why can’t you? What’s wrong with you?” / “Other people keep their house clean and tidy and bake cakes and cook nutritious meals for their family, and plan exciting craft activities for their kids. Why can’t you do that? What’s wrong with you?”

The more I tell these gremlins to buzz off and replace them with the good stuff (I’m not like other people. I’m me and this is what I need), the more the good narratives become more permanent. I’ve definitely noticed myself caring less what other people are doing and I’m much more ready to accept myself and give myself what I need.

A lot of my struggles over the last 10 years have been due to poor boundaries and not being assertive about my needs. When it comes to preventing burnout, boundaries are essential. Set some for yourself, communicate them, hold them. For example, some of mine:

• Alone time every weekend
• Time to myself during the week when I’m “off duty” from kids management
• A few nights away by myself each year
• Not over-working

I recently started a new job, and I took 4 weeks off between jobs to rest. I acknowledge the privilege I have that allows that. During that time I had a lot of internal battles about doing vs resting. But resting mostly came out on top, because I’ve been practicing :)

I’ve been slowly letting go. The jobs will never be done. It will never all be sorted. The pile of mess can stay there a while longer.

I am valuable even if I’m not being productive, even if I’m not giving to others or being useful. In my place of rest I am wonderful and loveable and enough.

Also — I don’t have to make every experience about ‘bettering myself’. It’s exhausting!

Parental “sacrifice” — the loss of self

It’s so easy to lose yourself as a parent. You give all of yourself to your child because you think your self sacrifice is not only your duty but the ultimate act of love. I’ve realised over the past 8 years that my ‘self sacrifice’ was not only not enough, but it was destroying me. Gradually it eroded away at my sense of self. It crushed my ability to find joy. It sucked out all my energy. It was completely unsustainable. My ‘self sacrifice’ might have made me feel like I was being a good mum for a while, but it was not serving my family. Or me.

So how on earth do you start to re-find yourself as a parent, when you can’t remember who you are or what brings you joy, and you’re exhausted and there are still lots of demands being made of you, and work, and chores, and not enough sleep, and maybe (probably) relational difficulties with your partner too?

I wanted to reclaim my identity, and not me in relationship to others (as mother or wife), but just as Lizzy. For me, I see ‘mother’ and ‘wife’ as roles and relationships — they are not who I am.

For me, there was some work in unmeshing myself from my kids and my husband.

Boundary-setting was again key here. My counsellor shared a concept which has been helpful for me — it’s the idea of having a metaphorical bubble around myself. Inside the bubble is all of me, the real me. It’s my character and personality, it’s all the things I love, the things that bring me joy, the things that move me, the things I care deeply about, the things that break my heart, the things I long for. And no-one gets to push in their arm in and take anything from me without me allowing it. I choose who, how and when people come close to that boundary, or touch it or penetrate it. It gave me a renewed sense of power over myself and what I love. These things are precious to me and I won’t allow them to be taken from me.

Who am I? I made a montage of words, drawings and doodles that expressed who I am. I re-read feedback from colleagues. I started to try and accept, appreciate and love myself. A daily practice.

I started to say things I wanted to do for myself out loud: “I want a week away by myself — somewhere to potter and explore, to pursue my own curiosity, and not have to answer to anyone, or justify my decisions.” So I took a 5 night trip away by myself. It did me a lot of good.

I’ve been working on accepting and loving myself. No judgment. Doing things because I want to, not to please others. For me it’s a daily battle. The pressure to conform to ridiculous and meaningless expectations of ‘society’ (whatever that is), the desire to be liked, appreciated, wanted, beautiful, significant, is always there, nagging at me, pulling me into the vortex of sorrow and frustration.

It can be very subtle! Noticing when I’m making a choice based on fear of rejection, or fear of anger or disapproval from others instead of my own sense of self takes practice.

I fear not just rejection, but the scorn and ridicule of others. And of being invisible or misunderstood. When I manage to disconnect myself from the desire for approval, I feel strong and powerful and purposeful and myself.

The joy-sucking falsehoods that surround us and fill our heads are always there. We have to make a daily choice to reject them. It’s hard.

My life is not a performance to entertain others or make others feel better.

And it’s ok if i’m a last minute person, instead of a planned-in-advance, totally in control person.

It’s ok that I’m a quiet, introverted and reflective leader.

Yes, the world needs Lizzy, as it needs each unique and beautiful human being. That includes you.

“Creativity, which is the expression of our originality, helps us stay mindful that what we bring to the world is completely original and cannot be compared.” (Brene Brown, The gifts of imperfection)

“Don’t puff up. Don’t shrink. Stand on your sacred ground.”
(Brene Brown, The gifts of imperfection)

There’s a lot of work I’ve done with my counsellor and my husband that’s enabled me to re-find myself and start doing more of what brings me joy.

I used to feel like I was in a cage. I no longer feel like that.

If you feel you’re in a cage, talk to someone. There’s hope.

If some of what I’ve said rings true for you, check out the poem let her breathe.

Hope

It’s possible to get unstuck! It’s possible to take back control and start living your life again. It’s possible to get rest and do things that bring you joy.

Go out there and live your life :-) And don’t do it alone — get support, cheerleaders and allies to stand by you on the journey.

“Stepping onto a brand-new path is difficult, but not more difficult than remaining in a situation which is not nurturing to the whole [person].”
(Maya Angelou)

When I started my journey last year I found a poem on the Insight Timer app called ‘She let go’. At the time it felt completely aspirational and I wondered if I would ever be able to let go of the thoughts, emotions and behaviours that held me back. To my great amazement, this is a thing that’s becoming real for me. It’s not completely done, but I think I have unclenched my fist and turned my palms upwards — a new dawn awaits.

If you haven’t done it yet, maybe give it a try.

She Let Go, by Sapphire Rose:

She let go.
She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.
She let go of the fear.
She let go of the judgments.
She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.
She let go of the committee of indecision within her.
She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons.
Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.
She didn’t ask anyone for advice.
She didn’t read a book on how to let go.
She didn’t search the scriptures.
She just let go.
She let go of all of the memories that held her back.
She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.
She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.
She didn’t promise to let go.
She didn’t journal about it.
She didn’t write the projected date in her Day-Timer.
She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper.
She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope.
She just let go.
She didn’t analyze whether she should let go.
She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter.
She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment.
She didn’t call the prayer line.
She didn’t utter one word.
She just let go.
No one was around when it happened.
There was no applause or congratulations.
No one thanked her or praised her.
No one noticed a thing.
Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.
There was no effort.
There was no struggle.
It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad.
It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be.
A small smile came over her face.
A light breeze blew through her.
And the sun and the moon shone forevermore…