Since I've been a mama for so many years, I haven't had the opportunity to be alone all that much.
Kids are a wonderful distraction, and I did well in losing myself in them.
Since my relationship with their father has shifted drastically, I have time in my life, perhaps for the first time ever in my life, to really Be. Alone.
I'll never forget the "first time". As my kids gathered their things in prepartion to leave, I was panicking. My body was physically flipping out. I felt like I would surely stop breathing at any moment, like I was suffocating. But it wasn't the potential missing them that terrified me.
It was this:
What will I possibly do with my time if I don't have someone ELSE to take care of?
It occurred to me, for the first time since I'd become a mother, that I didn't know what *I* actually liked anymore. Like ... hmmm ... what do I even WANT to do? What do I enjoy?
Who AM I?
I've had many opportunites to be alone since then. I know all about myself now, and dangit, do I ever love the person I look at in the mirror everyday!
She's very happy that some of the attention lands on her now.