Photo credit: photo taken by me 
In this day and age, it’s really disturbing that words like “anxiety” or “depression” or ADHD or Bipolar are still met with clouds of misunderstanding and uneducated stigma.
Almost every single person I know has struggled with their mental health at some stage of their lives, and it seems there is no time more prevalent for this than motherhood (or parenthood, for that matter).
The Birth of a Wife and Mother:
While there are plenty of veteran moms and blissfully forgetful grandmothers who are more than ready to induct the next generation of moms, there really is so little honesty or real information being passed organically from one generation of moms to the next.
I have noticed an incredible phenomenon, in the last 10 years or so, of millennial moms coming out on social media and taking that scary step, breaking the chain and saying to the world and the previous generation, “Hold up! You spun me a fairy tail; and just like happily ever after and prince charming; being a perfect mom, being a perfect wife and having a perfect baby don’t exist.”
Happily ever after and the Disney lie
Motherhood is hard. Marriage is hard.
The birth of your child and the day of your wedding both seem to be shrouded in mystery and magic and sold to you as these days that will magically alter you for ever (and they will, but not the way you initially think), and will somehow bring you the endless joy you’ve been conditioned to chase since you were tiny.
These half-truths become apparent when you wake up on the day after, wedding dress crumpled and stained with wine and mud, or after the birth, breasts engorged because you and your baby were too tired to feed. Then the reality sets in. Here I am. Here I will be. And This is my reality for the foreseeable future. And you realise that all the “What to expect when you’re expecting” books, relationship advice and romance novels and Disney movies will be completely inadequate in the challenges ahead.
I wish I may, I wish I might
I wish I had been fed more information at school about eating disorders, household budgets, taxes, healthy coping mechanisms and signs of toxicity in a relationship and how to seek help for my mental health.
I really and truly wish that I had grown up in an era as well as an environment where the truths of motherhood were not cloaked in mystery and that childhood mental health issues were identified and treated early.
I wish my own mother had been more honest about the first few weeks or months of motherhood being the most overwhelming, physically traumatic and lonely experiences a woman will ever endure. In her defence, the myths and ideologies of motherhood are generationally passed down and she was fed the same fables as a little girl, which left her vulnerable to the big bad ugly world, just as I was.
The armour that no longer fits
Being armed with the correct knowledge, no matter how awkward the conversation with my mom or teachers may have been, I would have been able to identify red flags and would have the skillset to put good boundaries in place. This would have allowed me to pick a healthier partner or at least helped me to leave an abusive situation sooner.
My default mode has always been an unhealthy amount of selfloathing, which after years of repetition, I have realised is basically like banging your head against a wall to get to the other side, and probably as productive.
But it was easier than actually resolving issues or holding people accountable for abuse dealt out to me. It was always easier to just focus it all inward even though it was ultimately like constantly shoving festering body parts under a carpet.
Through therapy, introspection and a heck of a lot of emotional support from my future husband, I have been able to explore and visit the little girl I left behind and honour her by validating and understanding her experiences, mental health issues, emotions and life choices, and ultimately to treat her with kindness and understanding.
Taking back my life: Healthy boundaries & Learning to say no
This Christmas was my 1st in years spent away from my immediate family. In the wake of a traumatic move, a serious injury and a barrage of emotional blackmail, I made the incredibly difficult decision to save my sanity this Christmas and kept it to myself, my partner and our beautiful children. Of course, when unpacking decorations and setting up the tree, I had some tearful moments, but all in all, it was absolutely worth the initial discomfort and the result was an intimate, special and magical Christmas with absolutely zero drama. I took the risk of hurting feelings and causing offence in favour of my own mental health, my partner's mental health and that of my children.
The world and environment he and I are building for our children is what they will refer to in their maturity to guide them and make irreversible decisions as they grow into young adults. Repeating history is simply not an option.
My partner and I have discussed, at length, our desire to be cycle breakers. After coming from childhoods of gaslighting, narcissism and abuse and then and then repeating cycles in our 1st marriages, we have a unique advantage of having been married early and getting out. We’ve both had time to heal. I’ve had therapy (and I’m going back and probably taking the whole family with me) and all of this has enabled us to look at this period in our lives as an incredible opportunity to start again. To do better. To Love wholly. And to genuinely put the mental wellbeing of our family unit above the needs of absolutely everyone else: starting with the two of us as parents and then naturally flowing to and nourishing our children.
Being held hostage by expectations and judgements and manipulation from extended family is simply no longer an option.
We have repeatedly tried to sit down and have rational discussions: they have, unfortunately, proved fruitless. People hear what they want to, and if they’re not ready, or have some agenda where your life decisions or boundaries do not suit them, you are bound to have traumatic backlash and for your words to be twisted into verbal balloon animals.
My therapist advised space: rather than attempting to over-explain and tie ourselves into emotional pretzels to try to prove that our decision to live our lives together is in fact healthy and beneficial.
Distance and time, however painful, are the answer to our healing. The only really sad thing, is that time is finite. But it’s also the reason, that we have to make the most of our own.
@Zakludick thank you for your love and bravery ❤️