Mothers’ Stories

To Love and be Loved

To Love and be Loved
Published : April 05 , 2016
Latest Update : May 31 , 2021
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By: Eman, mother of two.

I didn’t want to write this. Maybe in not pouring my heart and telling the world the truth, I could almost tell myself it didn’t happen to me. This isn’t my story. I'm not going through anything. You’re told to be happy. Hide your pain. I did just that. I woke up and did everything I could to be the best wife, the best mother, and the best person every single day. I was even called, “super mom.” I cooked, cleaned, and, Lord knows, my little ones were happy - as happy as can be when they’re fed, bathed, changed, and entertained. Parents know that doesn’t last for long, but we’re on the quest to finding the next thing to keep them smiling and not screaming, arguing, and saying their favorite word: “no.”

I woke up and did everything I could to be the best wife, the best mother, and the best person every single day. I was even called, “super mom.”

I take care of people. It’s what I do. I'm the person random strangers tell everything to. Today’s story was a woman who adopted her two kids because they were being abused by their step-dad. I hear such stories everyday. Maybe that’s why I kept telling myself, “It’s just a phase, and it’ll end. You’re going to be OK. We are all in pain!” I stayed up at night. I couldn’t really sleep. So much was happening during the day; it was only at night when I could finally hear my own thoughts. I wasn’t wife, mom, humanitarian, or anything. I was just me, and I wasn’t OK. “I just need a hug,” was my thought. “A good hug. The one that takes the pain away.” I don’t think I ever felt more lonely than when I was a wife and a mom. What was wrong with me? I had everything everyone wanted. Everything I thought I wanted. Why wasn’t all of this enough? I pushed my thoughts away and told myself to focus on everyone else. I serve. It’s what I do. I don’t remember myself or think about myself or my pain. I pushed it so deep that my body just shut down. I fainted on a plane, and I needed oxygen to breathe. Thank God; I had loved ones with me to take care of my kids. What happened? What got me in so deep that I couldn’t even move? I knew I was exhausted, but aren’t we all? I had done so much for everyone else but totally forgot the person who does it all. I wasn’t ok. I needed to heal. I didn’t need to be a better wife, or a better mom, or a better person. I needed to be me again. I lost her somewhere down the line. I didn’t even remember the last time I looked in the mirror and acknowledged the person looking back at me. The last time I asked myself, “What do you want?” What do you want? Not for your loved ones, but for yourself? I needed to find happiness. Inner-peace. I needed someone who listens and doesn’t judge. Someone who simply says, “We’re going to get through this together.” I found those people in different places. I found them in refugee camps, hospitals, and shelters. I drove everywhere. They shared their pain and let me share mine. I wasn’t ok. Loneliness is very real. The more suffocated you feel, the more you need to find what gives you joy. My husband and children gave me so much joy for so long, but I needed a world. I needed to breathe. That comes from spreading love and happiness everywhere you go. I went on a healing journey. I prayed everywhere I went. I believe God is love; the highest form of love. I believe love heals all pain. You’ll find Him when you serve our world. I woke up and looked up and said, “Ok, God, take me to those who need me.” I fed, healed, and sheltered as many as I could. I held their hands and gave them hugs. I saw their eyes sparkle. I felt all the doors to the Heavens open as I heard their prayers. My children were taken care of by my parents. It was the first time since the day they were born that I was able to let anyone other than myself take care of them. I was there, too, but it was good for them to be loved by grandma, grandpa, aunties, uncles and so many loved ones. I want to say that all is fine, but I know better than to lie to myself now. I am healing. Finally, healing.

If you’re not ok, you can’t take care of anyone. I learned that the hard way. So, if you’re reading this and you can relate, please do something for yourself.

If you’re not ok, you can’t take care of anyone. I learned that the hard way. So, if you’re reading this and you can relate, please do something for yourself. You don’t need to go to a refugee camp. You can do anything you want. Paint, write, play, dance, sing…You do whatever you need to do but please set your spirit free. Breathe. The world needs you. The day you do so, you’ll become a better wife, mother, and person. You’ll look in the mirror and smile. Then, you’ll rest.  

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