I fell in love with a man who has always been comfortable being himself. I think that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him so quickly. I, on the other hand, haven’t always been able to say the same about myself. I think back to the “old” me who would change her clothes and sometimes even her personality for someone else.

When the world shut down, so did I. Not leaving my home for nearly three months, it took a drive around town with my hubby and two sons on Mother’s Day 2020 to see the world was still moving, even though it looked and felt drastically different.

The woman I strive to be, the most joyful and powerful version of myself, has always been there, even when she was buried so deep under pain and desperation that I did not know her. She is who I discover as I learn to truly trust myself. A deeper self-love celebrates the ways I am becoming her.

Everyone (myself included) has said the two golden words, “Be yourself.” By saying this, magically everything should fall into place, people will like you and the world will fall at your feet. We think that these two words obtain the key to success.

I felt a renewed sense of hope that I could embrace autism, I could learn to manage his world better, so we could be the family we always wanted to be.

Remind yourself often that nothing is purely good or bad. Just because you’ve spent a few minutes/hours/years in a subjectively inefficient way doesn’t make them a waste.

I am more than a wife. More than a mother. There are pieces of me that have been sitting dormant in my mind for years, itching to work their way out and become part of me. Now that they are emerging, the hard work of figuring out who I am and how to make the pieces of me fit together is just beginning.

Motherhood was my main role, and the responsibility of it was deeply ingrained in my identity. I suddenly discovered, however, that it was not my only role. Also, I wanted more, and there were dreams outside of my children that I needed to invest in.

I have started a journey and no one knows. My journey does not involve planes, trains, automobiles, distant lands, or magnificent cultures. My journey is one that involves buying myself flowers on February 15, taking a day to read an important book, wandering for photographs, and pouring determination (and sore fingers) into knitting my own blanket.