As a mother, I often find myself reminiscing about my favorite photograph of my mom. You know the kind – that cherished image you return to time and again, evoking a wave of warmth and nostalgia. It’s a snapshot that truly embodies her essence, likely faded and worn from countless views, yet it captures the spirit of the woman who raised you.
For me, the standout image of my mother is one from the summer of 1977. She is reclining in a black bikini on a weathered teak chair, radiating beauty and confidence, completely carefree in that moment. There are no kids or toys in the frame; it’s just her.
Now, reflect on this: Do you possess a photograph of yourself that encapsulates just you? Not the one from the hospital after giving birth, nor the one where you’re dressed for your wedding or celebrating a baby shower. I’m referring to a picture where it’s simply you, in your own space, away from the roles of wife, mother, or friend.
I embarked on a quest to find such a photograph of myself, expecting to unearth at least one. After rummaging through a dozen scrapbooks filled with memories — the milestones of my children’s growth, from their first steps to birthdays and family vacations — I noticed a glaring absence: there were hardly any images of me. My search yielded only one solitary photo of me in a hospital bed, cradling a newborn.
What about the years that followed? The child grew and thrived, with countless snapshots chronicling their adventures, yet the woman behind the camera seemed to vanish. Motherhood had transformed my identity, relegating me to the role of the family historian, capturing every moment of my children’s lives while my own faded to the background.
Yes, I have taken selfies and some with my kids, but those aren’t the same as a beautiful portrait that captures the essence of me. The last time I remember lying in the sun, relaxed and carefree, was during my honeymoon — over 20 years ago. Back then, there were no children to photograph, just the woman before motherhood took center stage.
During these years, I’ve navigated countless roles: cooking, cleaning, planning, and organizing, all in the pursuit of crafting a cherished childhood for my kids. Yet, in the process, I have overlooked the importance of documenting my own journey. When my sons look for a picture of their mother, where will they find it? The answer is disheartening: they won’t.
Thus, I resolve to change this narrative. Before another day slips by, I will ask someone to snap a beautiful portrait of just me. It will be a moment free from chaos, a snapshot of a woman who existed before she became a mom. I will embrace who I am today, regardless of any insecurities about age, appearance, or self-image. In the eyes of my children, I am their mom, and that is beautiful.
Moms, I urge you to do the same. Have your kids take your photograph today, so that in the future, they won’t struggle to find a picture of the remarkable woman who shaped their lives. For more insights on family planning and related topics, check out this resource, or visit Make a Mom for comprehensive information about home insemination kits.
In summary, it’s time we prioritize our own identities alongside our roles as mothers. Capturing our essence will not only enrich our lives but will also provide our children with treasured memories of who we truly are.