💕 Do You Remember Her? The Woman You Were Before Becoming Momma
“Somewhere between the carpool lines and the endless laundry, I stopped remembering who I was.”
The Life That Built Me
Do you remember her? That woman you were before becoming a wife and mother.
I’m not sure I do.
My husband and I began dating almost 11 years ago. We got married 3 years ago. It wasn’t long after we started dating that we became pregnant.
I got a little early experience as a mom by being a step-parent to his (at the time) 9-year-old son, Drake. He turns 20 this year, and it’s so surreal.
Our firstborn child together, Avari, just celebrated his 10th birthday on October 27th. And then there’s our youngest, Shelly — 5 years old and a diva in every sense of the word.
That’s my world. My family. My heart.
Somewhere Along the Way, I Lost Her
But somewhere along the way, she — the woman I used to be — got lost.
She disappeared under piles of laundry, behind carpool schedules, and in between late-night homework help and 6 a.m. alarms.
She traded long showers for lightning-fast rinses and deep conversations for mental checklists. She stopped dancing in the kitchen and started calculating bedtimes.
Motherhood didn’t take her away — it quietly absorbed her.
Every little piece of me became about someone else: making sure Drake felt supported as he grew into adulthood, that Avari’s birthday was everything he hoped for, that Shelly’s favorite pink shoes were clean for school.
And I love them — God, I love them.
But in loving them so deeply, I forgot to keep loving me, too.
The Awakening
Lately, though, something has shifted. Maybe it’s time. Maybe it’s exhaustion. Maybe it’s growth.
But I’m realizing that she’s not gone — she’s just been waiting. Waiting for me to pause long enough to remember that I matter, too.
That I am still here — under all the titles and responsibilities — still a woman with dreams, needs, and a heartbeat that’s my own.
Why Momma Matters Too
And that’s what this space — Momma Matters Too — is for.
It’s for every mom who has given so much of herself that she’s not sure what’s left. For the overworked, the underappreciated, the exhausted, and the invisible.
Because being a good mom doesn’t mean disappearing.
You can love them deeply — and still love yourself completely.
So if you’re reading this and thinking, “I don’t remember her either,” I want you to know you’re not alone.
Maybe together, we can start finding her again — one small, intentional moment at a time.