What I Wish Someone Had Said Before I Became a Mom
Motherhood Is a Mindfuck!
Nobody told me motherhood would feel like this. Not just hard—disorienting. Like I’m watching my old self disappear in real time.
Nobody told me: • That the silence after bedtime would be the only time I feel like a person. • That I’d miss my child while wishing they’d just leave me alone for one hour. • That I’d feel so alone even when I’m never alone. • That I’d feel rage toward people I love because I’m drowning in needs that aren’t mine. • That being “grateful” and being “wrecked” could coexist in the same breath.
Nobody told me how often I’d want to walk out. Or how deeply I’d love this tiny human while also resenting the endlessness of their needs.
Nobody warned me about: • The way resentment clings to your skin like sweat. • The body that no longer feels like mine. • The grief—for my time, my identity, my energy, my brain.
And maybe some people did try to say these things, but they were drowned out by: “Enjoy every moment!” “You’ll miss this one day!” “Babies don’t keep.” “Don’t wish the days away.”
Well guess what? I do. And if that makes me a bad mother, then maybe we need to talk about what “good” even means.