This journey began as journeys often do…I'd had enough. I needed something different. I needed a way out of the burnout, the overwhelm, the exhaustion that kept me spinning. I needed to feel less alone and more alive.

 

Motherhood had so far been a wild ride of chaos, intense emotions, parenting challenges, and self-sacrifice. I loved being a mom, but I was feeling more and more depleted as the years went by. I became less patient, and more irritable. And then the pandemic hit. I went from feeling annoyed and tired to overwhelmed, burnt out, and panicky. I experienced an entirely new level of exhaustion. And I wasn't just irritable anymore. Now I felt anger swelling inside of me ready to burst out at the slightest thing. Even as restrictions receded and people tried to get back to life as usual, it had become clear to me that I wasn't going back to momming as usual. That ship had sailed and was no longer sustainable. Things had to change and fast.

 

So I set out looking for what I could do about it. I got support, found other women who were looking to create a similar change in their lives. I reconnected with my own inner passions. I knew I wasn’t the only mother feeling this way. What could I do about it? 

 

I began by reading, listening, absorbing all the information I found that seemed relevant. Learning about wounds of oppression, why so many women and mothers feel so overburdened and unsupported. Exploring feminine wisdom from our ancestors, what it means to feel disconnected from who we really are, and why it’s so important to find out way back home again. I took a few risks- some small, some big. Some well-thought out, some impulsive. And I started resisting. Resisting doing things the way others said they had to be done. Resisting the doubts and self-criticism. Questioning others’ expectations of me. Listening to what I needed. What I wanted. Finding my new limits. Setting new boundaries.

 

The truth was, I needed more. I needed to reconnect with what makes me…well, me. Not just being a mom, or working as a therapist. I needed to carve out some time and space to just be me. To create. To breathe and feel. But everything I'd tried before didn’t seem to be enough. Or when something did help me feel better, the effects wore off soon afterward, and then I was back to where I started.

 

Maybe you can relate?

 

How often do I plan to go to bed early, wake up before the kids and write in my journal? Then I struggle to fall asleep or one of my kids wakes me up in the night or both, and the morning comes and I’m practically comatose. I try to write while my 5 year old jumps on and off the couch, crawls into and out of my lap, asks for a “second breakfast.” When I do get a few moments peace, I start to nod off as soon as my pen hits the paper.

 

But I persist. The next night I’ll try again. Maybe I get better sleep, I wake up early, I write for a few minutes before the kids are up or my husband wants to chit chat (he’s a morning person). It’s not ideal, but it’s something. And I keep trying, keep finding out what works, what doesn’t. All the while trying to practice compassion and letting go of my desire to create the perfect scenario. I go for walks as often as I can. Sometimes I listen to music while I walk, sometimes I just want to hear the birds and the wind rustling the leaves.

 

I make art at my office because I sometimes have a few hours of quiet alone time before I start seeing clients or a break between sessions. And I dream. About buying a kiln and taking up pottery, trying singing lessons. About travel and time in nature. I recognize patterns, I uncover more questions. I'm met with resistance. (Old me sure is set in her ways!) 

 

Slowly but surely, I’ve found ways to come back home to myself. Ways that work for me. It helps me to have time and space to check in with myself, to lose my sense of time a bit and to play. So my nervous system can settle.

 

And in doing all this exploration and nurturing of myself, one vision that I kept coming back to was a community of moms helping one another to find their way back home to themselves. A safe space to lift each other up. To unlearn old biases and oppressive beliefs that have pitted us against one another. To feel empowered to put our dreams into action. Feel supported, nourished, understood, and loved. Foster deeper and more positive connections.

 

But even more than that, I wanted it to be an incubator for our creativity. Because I know the powerful, nurturative benefits of creating without concern for what others may think or say about it. Creating because we have been created and are wired to create (whether we believe it or not!). A place to spark ideas, explore, play, and visualize a different way forward. Of course, each person's path will be different. What works for me may not work for you, and vice versa. But we'd be each other’s support. Cheer on our successes, share compassion and empathy when we struggle.

 

This vision became (re)Create You.

 

My hope is that those of you who have been looking for this very thing will find your way here. And that our nurturance of one another will ripple outward to our families and friends. To our communities.

 

It’s a beautiful, imperfect work in progress. Just like each of us.

 

I’m open to suggestions, as well- with respect to making materials and interactions more accessible for all, individual needs, and making sure the group spaces are as safe and supportive as can be. Just as everyone’s journey will be different, I know each person’s needs and preferences for learning, creating, communicating, etc. will also be different. Shoot me an email or schedule a                            to share your thoughts or ask any questions.

 

Holding this space in love and compassion...

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