Happy birthday to me! Today I turn 40. Such an epic milestone. I could have told you with great certainty at every year of my life what I would be doing at age 40 and it would never have included breastfeeding an almost 5-year-old and a 2-year-old, being a stay-at-home mom and mommy blogging.
I have always fancied myself the most badass person in the room. But I never really had to define what that truly meant for me until I became a mom. And then it wasn’t something I tried to do, it just happened to me.
From those early days of intense vulnerability, baby crying, me crying, feeling completely unfit to protect a tiny human. To the breastfeeding battle, losing every minute, feeling like a failure. To finding my mama tribe and starting to breastfeed with ease. To being humbled so much by this breastfeeding relationship that every rule, stipulation and expectation fell away like ancient ruins. To the first comments that I was gross for breastfeeding in public. To finding my voice, to finding that I wasn’t just trained a social worker, I was born an advocate. To facing every insecurity, every fear, every norm and ever institution and doing it MY way with my second son.
The best part about getting older is truly losing interest in what other people have to say about me. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, however I want to do it. It’s my body and my life. Everyone else can f*** off.
