It’s kinda scary when you look back at your photos and you realize that the only thing that brought you delight was your child.

You stopped having time.

Time for tapestry.
Time for croissants.
Time for art.
Time for ceramics.
Time for friends.
Time for wine.
Time for handbags.
Time for fancy dinners.

You stopped seeing it all. Feeling it all. Enjoying it all.

Motherhood doesn’t have to be like that.
If anything, it SHOULDN’T be like that.

A woman’s life doesn’t stop because she had a child.
Her heart is still beating.
Her mind is still thinking.
Her blood is still cursing through her veins.

So why does she stop.
Living for herself?

 

x

K