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I’m not a new mom, but I wouldn’t call myself an expert either.
As I scroll through social media, I find myself pausing at videos of trendy new moms showcasing their stylish outfits. Take, for example, a young mom with her eighteen-month-old son wearing a thrifted sweatshirt, wide-leg pants, and platform sneakers. She effortlessly promotes a lip gloss brand, flashes a bright smile, and the clip wraps up. Immediately, I think about searching for a similar sweatshirt online, convinced I can pull off the same chic vibe. But then it hits me—I’m 37. Am I really the target demographic for TikTok? Should I really be browsing through the sections tailored for twenty-three-year-olds? Honestly, I’m not even sure if this new mom remembers the first time we all rocked those awful flared jeans that are making a comeback.
Navigating this stage of life feels bizarre. I’m not exactly young, yet I’m far from old. It’s a strange limbo, and I often feel out of place in my late thirties. I find myself caught between generations—watching shows like The Kardashians and Teen Mom, yet I’m also in bed by 9 PM, struggling with sore hips after a long walk. I enjoy inappropriate humor and use slang, but just one cocktail leaves me tipsy. I shop at trendy stores like Abercrombie and jam to Justin Bieber, yet I’m also passionate about things like butcher block oil and comfortable underwear. It’s as if I’m teetering between two worlds—one feels desperate, and the other, well, kind of sad. So here I am, standing still and feeling confused.
I’m not a new mom, but I’m not seasoned either. My youngest is a year and a half old, and I’m done expanding my family. At 37, I should be embracing this phase of life, but instead, I find myself scrolling through social media, seeing pregnancy announcements from people much younger than me. I catch myself thinking, “That girl is just a kid.” Yet, I know she’s not. It’s her turn to have a baby shower and set up her first nursery while I’m on the other side of that journey. Instead of feeling accomplished, I feel lost because I’m not ready to say goodbye to my days with babies and toddlers.
Maybe I should ease into this transition, taking it one step at a time. After all, moving forward is the only natural direction in life. I need to embrace this new chapter rather than fear it. I can make small adjustments, like comparing myself less to younger moms and influencers, opting for more light reading, and cutting back on TikTok. I’ll focus on recognizing the beauty that comes with my own age and experiences instead of viewing them as a downward spiral. I’ll remind myself of the perks of this next motherhood phase—more independence, body autonomy, and cherished moments with my partner.
I’ve heard many women say that they find newfound confidence and happiness in their later years, caring less about the little things and giving themselves more grace. I can get behind that. Until I reach the other side, I’ll just try my best to stay afloat in this confusing in-between. Kind of young, kind of old, and undeniably weird.