the unspoken grief of parenthood
Children change everything. They just do. They are a bomb of love and growth and heartbreak which will detonate in small booms throughout your time together on this rock floating in space.
Sidenote: a shorter version of this started in my business newsletter in the winter of 2024. While my toddler was napping (okay really it’s quiet time but I still will them to nap and it rarely works), a creative surge overcame me and convinced me to go deeper, an artistic expansion of sorts. This is why we should all revisit our work. From my heart to yours - enjoy.
For the past four years, my small business and creative endeavors have been operating in a fragmented and inconsistent state. I'm reminded of a void in artistry almost daily as I show up half here and half in another place. That place - being a parent. I long to reunite with the magical sparks that coursed through my work and brain. I cannot force the spark, I’ve tried. It felt icky and inauthentic, and frankly terribly obvious. Operating my business and my life when I had complete freedom and agency felt like I was getting closer to myself, an electric discovery of my inner stamina, power, and drive (and I was making my own money in the process, sweet!).
In 2021, I had a baby (which I wanted, whom I love). Then, a tremendously difficult postpartum journey (which I didn't expect) with a mysteriously medically complex baby, and after that, separating from my wife (which was really painful), and then, my baby received a diagnosis of a rare genetic condition (I can't put the feelings into words). All these big and brutal life events conjured a formula with no other outcome but to kick me on a new path of evolving, far from the one I was on and distant from the days of slow artistry, fierce focus, and jetting off on solo vacations to “discover myself” (I think this idea is silly, we’re constantly in discovery mode). I joke Maven Made, my business, an emotional home of sorts, is my first baby, which is entirely accurate. These days my parenting style there is loose and might I say more hands-off. Bowing down to letting control go has gifted me a humbling perspective, as welcoming a new human into your orbit often does. After all, the unfolding of life, and all its phases are just a love affair with uncertainty, “we know nothing; let there be room for not knowing” (wise words by the great Heather Lanier from my favorite book, Raising A Rare Girl).
If you decide to stop reading now, here's the message: children change everything. They just do. They are a bomb of love and growth and heartbreak which will detonate in small booms throughout your time together on this rock floating in space. They are the medicine you didn’t know you needed to nudge healing. Their presence and the space they take in your life will surely reveal who are true blue lifetime friends and illuminate those who aren’t (this is painful as hell, too). They force you to look backward, but for not too long, and reminisce about that pre-baby version of self. You will relate to your body, other people’s bullshit, travel, sleep, sex, having fun, scarcity, and even how you groom yourself in ways that only you can understand when you are in the throws of parenthood.
One thing I always say about falling in love or having children (both of which produce all those juicy love hormones): to do it is to sign a contract with both heartbreak and joy.
At this time. I'm figuring myself out and existing as a very different human, and it has certainly impacted the way I work and create. Working less is now valued more as well as taking on a minimal amount of responsibility. If I tap into a rare container of creativity, it is explosive and always turns out to be an idea I run towards.
Are you still reading? Good, I'm still here, too.
I was interviewed for an episode on the PeaceWith podcast, where we discussed my business, Maven Made's, origin story, community, and spirituality. During the recording, my child filled the background with the noises of a meltdown. I frantically darted away from our Zoom recording twice when my geriatric dog escaped the backyard. Messy unplanned moments I would've cringed at before when more focus was placed on being polished. I am different now; let there be room for messiness. Feelings of embarrassment must go in this exchange of evolution.
As usual, during the recording, I nailed the story of how Maven Made came to be, it falls out of my mouth with ease every time. The hard part is putting into words how things have changed within the drive and structure of my business.
"I'm just trying to survive," I finally declare.
I don’t even care if this exasperating statement comes across as extreme. It is my experience and is certainly shared with fellow parents and caregivers. I know it because I see it in the looks we give each other in the aisles of the grocery store. The conversations I’ve had and have yet to be had. The shared solidarity I can’t shake at the playground in a sea of screaming and laughing. Feeling so seen and heard when my fellow mom friends closed the wine bar down last month with gentle conversation and lots of head nods after our childfree* pals went home.
I share gratitude for the community of my customers and their consistent support for over a decade. It's allowed me to parent myself and my child with gentleness and curiosity and scale back, especially on social media; let there be room for scaling back. I don't post fluff or hop on trends not only because it feels thoughtless, and I simply don't have the time. Let there be room for not having the time and lots of it. Most days, my kid needs me more than my work, and things get placed on the back burner and truthfully, I don't always like this outcome. I grieve the focused person I once was, but I'm glad I'll never return to her. Her sense of urgency and illusion of expectations was unhealthy anyway. This messy, unfazed, and honest version is much more weird and fun to take space in. She's a character. She fucking birthed her soulmate. She’s sexy, too. She has hope.
We are constantly evolving. Having a child forces us to develop, love and shed in ways we didn't see coming, an evolution so intense that it must be met with grief - letting go. We should be discussing this more; I think about how many parents and caregivers are holding [rightful] resentment and disorientation because we view this entire topic as taboo. It is normal. We will return to a new form of relating to how we work, love, connect, and exist.
We must divorce the idea that evolution means we grow better, smarter, stronger, refined, and more certain. It won't always be towards excellence in late-stage capitalism’s preferred ascension. May we all develop a preference for a softer, uncertain, simpler, and vulnerable form of self when we are born as parents.
To all my fellow parents with whom this landed, you are certainly not alone. To all the people who are evolving in unexpected and complex ways, keep going. Let there be room for your evolution.
* A note on parents vs childfree people. I won’t wrestle in that arena. There is no hierarchy, and in fact, all the content claiming one’s life choice is more fulfilling than the other feels like love letter only the poster/writer needed to tell themselves. Both ways to exist are glorious, no one is better for having children or not. I decided to and I’m settling into it and letting it change me in the ways it needs to. A childfree life changes you in ways that it needs to, too.
I remember when you first shared your thoughts on this topic in your newsletter, it felt so incredibly poignant. I was struck by the beauty of the messiness you depicted- in contrast with a more focused version of yourself. It struck me hard, especially this thesis "We must divorce the idea that evolution means we grow better, smarter, stronger, refined, and more certain. It won't always be towards excellence in late-stage capitalism’s preferred ascension. May we all develop a preference for a softer, uncertain, simpler, and vulnerable form of self when we are born as parents."
Thank you for sharing your wisdom, both in your newsletter and here. May we all continue to evolve into a more true, more soft, and more simple version of ourselves.