I Miss Me (And That’s Okay)
If you’ve ever come home after a long day and felt both grateful and completely drained , this one’s for you. Sometimes motherhood is full of laughter and love… and sometimes, it’s just loud.
Tonight, after a long day of training, I called home on my drive.
“Mom.”
“Mom.”
“MOM.”
Whine. Yell. Whine. Yell.
By the time I pulled into the driveway, I could already feel the overstimulation creeping in, that mix of noise, responsibility, and love that fills every corner of motherhood. I walked in to the usual chaos; shoes in the hallway, snacks on the counter, laughter and bickering somehow happening at the same time. My husband said, “Let’s clean tonight so we can rest this weekend,” which made sense… but in that moment, I wanted to cry.
So I went upstairs to change and ended up just sitting there on the edge of my bed, still in my work clothes, still holding the weight of the day. And in that silence, which felt rare and sacred, I realized how much I love my kids, and also how much I missed me.
The me who could come home to quiet. The me who didn’t have to be the family secretary, the keeper of schedules, the one who remembers everything for everyone. The me who could be spontaneous, stay up too late watching a show, decide to take a drive, or have sweat pant Sundays that didn’t start with packing lunches or folding laundry. The me who wasn’t always needed, touched, or called for. For a few minutes, I sat there and let it all come up, the guilt, the sadness, the peace, the love. Because that’s what motherhood really is: a swirl of emotions that don’t always make sense together.
But here’s the thing , even when I’m away from my kids, I miss them too. I miss their snuggles and the way they tell me stories that never seem to end. I miss their excitement over something small they found or learned. That’s the magic, the beautiful, ordinary chaos of it all.
I can crave quiet and miss the noise. I can miss who I was and love who I’ve become.
Somewhere along the way, motherhood became about giving. We give time, energy, space, love and we forgot that giving to ourselves counts, too. I think we tell ourselves that missing the “before” version of us is wrong, like it means we aren’t grateful for the life we have now. But it’s not about regret, it’s about remembering.
Remembering that we existed before we were needed this much. Remembering that we still matter, even when we’re stretched thin. Remembering that the person we were then is still part of who we are now.
Maybe it’s not about getting back to her, but about bringing her with us. The truth is, I don’t want my old life back. I just want to make a little more room for me inside the one I have.
And sometimes that means being intentional in finding small ways back to myself. I go hiking. I go paddle boarding. Sometimes I even plan a trip away, not because I don’t love my kids or my life, but because these are the things that connect me to me. Not as “mom.” Not as anyone’s anything. Just as a person.
I will always be their mom but I’m also a whole person too. And sometimes, I have to give love to the person so I can show up as the best mom I can be.
When I finally got up, I felt a little lighter. Not because the exhaustion disappeared, but because I gave myself permission to feel it, all of it.
Here’s what I’m learning to practice in moments like that:
1. Pause before you push through.
Even if it’s just thirty seconds in a quiet room or the car before you walk inside. That small pause is a reset button for your nervous system and your soul.
2. Name what you feel without judgment.
“I’m tired.” “I miss me.” “I need space.” Naming it doesn’t make you ungrateful, it makes you honest.
3. Find a small ritual that reconnects you.
For me, it’s eating cereal in bed, scrolling in peace, or stepping outside for fresh air. It’s a reminder that the woman before motherhood still matters within it.
Because motherhood isn’t just about raising them, it’s also about remembering the person you are underneath the title of mom, sister, daughter, aunt, employee, ect.
I went back downstairs and embraced and even enjoyed the chaos of sticky fingers, hearing about the cool thing at school and having a dance party while we cleaned. But that small moment of stillness before that mattered. It reminded me that the woman I was before motherhood isn’t gone. She’s layered beneath everything I’ve built since. She might be tired but she is ever evolving and I reminded myself that I am still here and still me.
And sometimes, sitting on the edge of the bed in silence is how I find her again.
🌙 Mini Reset: The Two-Minute Pause
Before bed, sit somewhere quiet, no noise, no multitasking. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and ask yourself:
“What part of me needs attention right now?”
You might be surprised by what you hear.
🤍 You’re Not Alone
It’s messy, this blend of love, loss, and longing but maybe being managed isn’t always about balance. Maybe it’s about noticing when you need a moment to find yourself again. If you’ve been there too, missing yourself in the middle of motherhood, you’re not broken. You’re just human. We’re figuring it out together, one messy, managed moment at a time.
Cheering you on through the chaos,
Katelyn – Messy but Managed
If you want the little stories and reflections that don’t make it to the blog, you’ll find them on Instagram → @messybutmanaged