A friend wrote me recently that I “mother her and so many others.”
I let that sink in. Because yeah, I do.
I mother her.
I mother my community.
I mother my friends.
I mother myself.
And, of course, I mother my plants.
To be a mother, I think, is to be of service.
I am a mother, albeit not in the traditional sense. It struck a chord with me because I have always wanted to be a mother.
It is something I’ve repressed for a long time, because it hasn’t become true for me yet. Still, the knowing is there and true as the beat of my heart.
In many ways, I cannot control if or when I become a mother.
It’s not only about finding the right partner, but also the miracle of conception. I’ve seen my friends struggle with miscarriages and infertility, and I’m in no way immune, as a woman living with PCOS.
So many things have to go right.
I have no interest in manipulating a partner into having kids, or committing to children before they are ready.
I toyed with the idea of freezing my eggs, mostly because the benefit was available to me through my employer. After careful consideration and attending preliminary doctor’s appointments, I decided that freezing my eggs felt out of integrity for me — though I fully support that choice for other women, if they decide it is right for them.
The ability to freeze eggs and embryos is an incredible technological evolution that gives people options.
Choice is a privilege, and choice is important.
After breaking my own heart over the possibility of not having children, and learning from experience that I cannot force anyone to be on the same page at the same time, I’ve realized that letting go of control is the way.
My priority is to surrender fully to the timing of my life.
That means not knowing.
That means rooting into the uncertainty, instead of running from it.
That means loosening the grip on control, which feels both incredibly frightening, and also like an immense relief.
It’s how I imagine it would feel to release your child in a field and let them run free for the first time.
Perhaps, mothering is being in the moment. Surrendering to the flow, and often, the mess. Whether it’s in the literal or metaphorical playroom.
It can be really hard, and, it’s also taking joy in the unfolding. In the time in-between. Like the moment right before the sun sets, spectacularly painting the sky with reds, yellows, and oranges. The sky takes her bow, and leaves us in awe of the show we’ve witnessed, mouths agape.
Perhaps mothering is a both, and. The beauty to be present, witness, and nurture, and also, the ability to let everything go, even when it’s scary.
I imagine the fear never fully dissipates, but hangs, like the fog during June in Los Angeles.
I guess it’s to say, often there is no right or wrong way. Sometimes we have to step on legos and get dirt under our fingernails to feel what is tangible.
When life feels confusing, I go back to what’s true.
The last four years have had many ups and downs, but I know this: coaching gives me joy, fulfillment, play, and connection. Every time I coach, I support others in their growth and reconnecting with themselves.
I help them become the person, woman, and mother of their dreams… and I am doing that for myself, too.
We all need a Mother.
Let’s reflect
Who are you mothering as we approach Mother’s Day?
What are the ways in which you are already a Mother?
How can you honor the Mother in you this Mother’s Day?
Of course, full encouragement to honor your Mother here, too. If you’d like to explore mothering further, let’s connect.
In loving support,
Grace