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Becoming a Butterfly

A millennial mamas struggle to find herself

I totally get you now Britney!

Sexy is not the first thought that came to my mind after my 8.9 lb. baby ripped its way into the world .

I looked down at my stomach. And honestly, I was shocked.

I no longer saw the Gicela I used to be, that fun, carefree and confident woman.

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that I was a mom now and my baby burrito came 1st , 2nd and 3rd

As time went on, my beautiful baby burrito turned into a wildly independent toddler. And I? Left with insomnia, a body I barely recognized and no sense of identity.

The realization that I had to step back and relearn who I was, fell on me like a bucket of cold water…

I was vulnerable, scared and had no clue how the hell I’d survive the next 3 months.

But the thought of admitting my defeat and asking for help somehow seemed terrifying.

I saw my vulnerability as weakness. And my biggest concern was not letting anyone see.

It took many sleepless nights, tons of pity parties and several bottles of cheap wine for me to say “This is enough!!!”

I started to look for help from those around me; on one particularly awful night, I called my little sister. And I said “will you help me?” I admitted my defeat and it was damn liberating.

I took matters into my own hands… Vulnerability was no longer my weakness; it was the necessary stage in my transformation into sexy Mamahood

Vulnerability is the cocoon stage of the caterpillar before it turns into a butterfly; in this vulnerable stage I had to make sure to create a nurturing and protective cocoon where major transformation was happening from within.

Major shit was going down and I needed the right space for this to happen…

My first year through motherhood has been an emotional and physical ride, my life has been altered in ways that I cannot even put into words. I am on my journey to becoming a butterfly (cheesy I know but….)

Becoming free is a hell of a hard job; you can’t do it alone. You need people…

People who love you unconditionally, who get you, who stand with you when shit is hitting the fan (no literally my baby’s shit somehow ended up on our kitchen fan), people who make you do things that are hard and uncomfortable.

Either I own this bitch or it owns me… here’s to our world of butterflies!

Ps. It’s ok if you need a Britney Spears moment

Originally published at momlenials.wordpress.com

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