Having not returned to work since my Daughter was born, deciding what to wear in the Mornings became something of uncertainty. After years of throwing on whatever particular work attire was required of me, suddenly I had free reign-like mufty day every day. Except I didn’t have the energy, motivation or wardrobe to match. This issue was somewhat taken out of my hands in the 13 months I was breast feeding. It was black leggings, and ubiquitous feeding vest errrrrday. But after that point, I really wasn’t too sure.
I’d imagine many of you are familiar, (and quite possibly own) the highly successful Selfish Mother “Mama” sweatshirts. They have raised hundreds of thousands for charities, and most recently have been spotted worn by Super Models and Celebrities. I was excited when the two I had purchased arrived. Not only did it give me some sort of “mum uniform” (along side the faithful Breton), so that my sleep deprived brain didn’t need to debate what to wear in the morning. The sweatshirt also made me feel like I was part of a club, helped me embrace this new identity. When I bought mine, the brand weren’t as big as they are now, so most of the mum’s wearing them were fellow “insta mums” (such a trend setter hey? ). We exchanged smiles, and nods of recognition. They’re lovely jumpers, bright colours, well cut, money goes to a worth cause, what’s not to love? And most importantly they proclaim to the world something I am immensely proud of. I am indeed Mama to a wonderful little human.
However I reached a point a few months back, where I really didn’t actually want this emblazoned across my chest. As if the eye bags, porridge encrusted clothing, and toddler hanging from my neck weren’t enough of a clue? It isn’t always the very first thing I want someone to know about me. Yes I am a Mother, I am also lots of other things. And I have a name, oh my goodness, is it just me who misses being referred to by their own name?
There were also moments I felt rather uncomfortable or inappropriate with this jumper. Was it ramming the message home to that couple I unknowing pass in the street who are desperate to conceive? Is it a punch in the guts to the Lady who has just miscarried? When a friend opens up to me about her abortion, all of a sudden my wardrobe choice seems very very ill timed.
So for now Mama jumper, you can head to the back of the wardrobe. No hard feelings. I am still immensely proud of this title, but I am perhaps ready to be viewed by the World beyond the one word description. And more important, perhaps I am ready to rediscover more of myself. As a Mum &…