How do I introduce myself? *Who am I?* It used to be so much easier to answer that question. I’m an artist, living and working in Baltimore. I have cats, I have a dog, I have a partner.
I have a kid. Having a kid adds “mom” to everything. You’re an artist-mom. You’re a teacher-mom. You’re a working-mom. You’re a coffee-mom. Yes, you’re a wine-mom, too.
It defines us, replaces our name, becomes the first thing that the world sees.
I love being a mom. I’m PROUD that I’m a mom. Our bodies and brains have done INCREDIBLE things to achieve this title. (Regardless of whether you carried your child — the science of parenthood is bananas.)
It is such a BIG important job/journey/choice, it makes sense that “mom” permeates my entire existence now. This layer of identity is so sticky, so ever present in how I think of myself now, and how others think of me.
But we contain multitudes, right? And not just different versions of mom-ness (or dad-ness, or caregiver-ness). I’m still the someone I was before. Just with more icing on top. Am I feeling torn, or just buried?
So, how do we find that balance? How do we permeate the strata between me, and you when you made me so much of who I am now?
I know I’m not alone in these complicated feelings, and you’re not either. I hope you’ll join me on this journey while I process all the wild feels of pandemic/post-pandemic parenthood, and explore the depth of this relationship. Who are we to our children, our communities, ourselves?

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