Freedom at 50mph
August 23, 2020 | Motherhood58 mph to be exact. That was the top speed my son, Jackson, and I hit on our first jet ski ride out on the lake. Pure exhilaration exuded from my four year old. When was the last time you felt all-consuming joy? For me, in that moment, I would have been hard pressed to tell you if I’d ever felt more alive.
I think a part of me had been waiting for that moment for years. Motherhood came naturally to me, almost too naturally. I felt so prepared to care for my babies, but not at all prepared for the transformation that could (and eventually would) occur when becoming a mom. My life since college had been defined by career-focused choices. I left the comfort of home for Miami, Florida, two days after graduating from Ohio State. I went to graduate school because of a shift in career goals, and even met my husband at a professional work convention. My career aspirations defined who I was for so long, that I did not even realize I had lost myself along the way. When my “dream job” presented itself, followed by a harsh realization that, yes, nightmares are dreams too, I spent the better part of three years in an almost constant state of stress, anxiety, and anger. It was, of course, not all bad; we had some incredible moments along the way, and I am extremely proud of the solid team that Paul and I have proven to be. In the midst of desperately clinging to find a balance between motherhood and this dream job, we welcomed our second baby boy.
Reflecting on it now, recognizing and accepting the postpartum depression I experienced after having Colton, is one of the best things that ever happened to me. It was a jolt into self-reflection and a deep discovery of strength that had long been forgotten. I wanted more than this dizzying carousel of work, stress, tears, and exhaustion. My children were thriving at daycare/preschool, but they were a mess in the evenings and on weekends. It was pointed out to me that this was most likely because daycare was the only sense of routine and calm they experienced each week. Wow. Let that gut punch sink in. But it was 100% accurate. Life was slipping by in a buzz, and I was allowing it to happen. I cried with my husband for months as we tried to determine what we really wanted in life and how, under our current set of circumstances, we could achieve it. I kept coming back to an excerpt from Emily Ley’s book, When Less Becomes More. She continuously returns to the word ‘good’ when thinking about what she and her husband want for themselves and their children. Good. Not grand. Not exciting or extravagant, but good. I wanted good. And I desperately wanted calm (or as calm a house full of boys could be).
One week before COVID-19 blew up in the US, I put in notice that I was leaving my full-time job that summer. We didn’t exactly have a plan, but we knew in our hearts our family needed a pause. A few weeks later, I was presented with the opportunity to teach part-time in an adjunct role at the University during Fall 2020. Then, another opportunity presented itself, and I became a BeautyCounter Consultant. As I closed the door on an incredibly tumultuous chapter of my life, the floodgates were opening in ways I never thought possible. I was not becoming who I was meant to be, but unbecoming all of what I had told myself I needed to be, should be. A desire to be more present and happy with my boys led to discovering parts of myself I didn’t even realize I had lost. Happiness began creeping back in.
Fast forward to June. We were visiting family at a lake house in Pennsylvania. I grew up on Lake Erie, and have always loved the sense of freedom I feel on a jet ski. Despite a busy wfh schedule (I still had a few weeks left in my FT job), when Jackson asked for a jetski ride I couldn’t say no. Out we went, slowly at first. Jackson is a solid balance of adventurous and cautious, so I was not sure exactly how fast I should go. I timidly reached 30, then 35 mph. After a few minutes Jackson turned his head, looked up at me all smiles and said “Mommy, we can do this... let’s go..!”. Sure, all he wanted in that moment was to go faster, but for me it was a declaration. He trusted me. He felt free and joyful, and wanted me to feel it too. We were in this thing together. I felt that to my core. As we sped up, he knew I would keep him safe, just as I knew God would keep me safe throughout this journey. God made me a mama to these boys, and in that moment He was calling me to a purpose that has been buried deep, but was very much alive. I pulled the throttle and we climbed to 45, 50, 55, then 58 mph. I was free. An old jet ski and the boy who made me a mom brought me back home and helped me find freedom. Free of expectations and judgment. Free to live a life that is good.