Getting to Know Me

I sat in the car, preparing myself to run. It was more than mental preparation that was taking place; there was an internal monologue taking place within me.
“Kate, it’s only five kilometres. You’ve done this plenty of times!”
“Getting out of the car is winning half the battle.”
“It’s okay if you need to walk.”
“It’s not about time. It’s not about pace. It’s just about doing it.”

How was it possible that a five kilometre run was causing me anxiety? I was right, I had done this before. Plenty of times. This wasn’t new to me. Yet, here I was, my heart beating faster and faster, my body clammy with sweat. I had run a handful of marathons, heaps of ten kilometre runs. I had run up mountains, completed an ultra. Five kilometres was nothing in the grand scheme of things and, yet, within this moment, it was huge and terrifying!
Again, I was reminded that anxiety isn’t restricted to a certain time or place, instead occurring at random and often for seemingly no reason. It doesn’t come with a trigger warning and isn’t based on convenience.
The difference between now and many years ago is that, in the past, I would have driven away, I would have let the anxiety inside me win. I would have gone home, climbed into bed and rested for the day. Today was different; acknowledging my anxiety, I left the car and walked to the starting line. Everyone gathered to listen to the safety briefing. Meanwhile, I stood at the back, hoping (and praying) I wouldn’t see anyone I knew, and if I did, that they wouldn’t talk to me.
The siren sounded to let everyone know the run had started and I took off. The second I started, it was as though I left all my anxiety back at the starting line. Although it was only a short time I was running for, I used the time to reflect.
Motherhood is just a series of contradictions. I long to be alone, but the second I am, I wish that you and Solomon were there. You spend half of your time with your Dad, so I overcompensate when I am with you. I also don’t want to leave Solomon for longer than required because I don’t want to miss out on his life either.
I immerse myself in you both, not knowing who I am when you aren’t there. I don’t know what I have to offer the world when you aren’t around. My worth rises and falls based on who I am to you. And that’s bloody scary. I want you to see what it means to be a female who isn’t just a mum.
I realised that I have always based my worth on what I do—the jobs I have, what I do (or did) in church, what I’m creating, crocheting, or writing, and how much I’m running. I realised that I’ve never based my worth on who I am. And I wonder if anyone does? All humans have value, but does anyone base their worth on that? Society pushes us to value what we do, what we contribute. Even now, at the young age of 9, you’re being asked what you want to do when you grow up. Even now, you have reports written about what you do and don’t do; your performance is either celebrated or criticised. Even Solomon, at the age of 1, is being judged by what he can and can’t do. Can he walk? Can he talk? Can he feed himself? When we start looking at the big picture, we see that our foundation, our worth, and our value is based on what we do and what we contribute to society. While I do believe we need to contribute to society, I don’t believe our value as a human should be based on that alone.
And so, this trap, which we all fall into—focussing on ‘doing’ rather than ‘being’—means that when I’m not with you and Solomon, when I’m not doing something, I don’t know who I am or what I should be doing.
And when you two are not with me, I don’t have a distraction; I have nothing to hide behind. When I am left with just me, I am forced to look internally. There is a touch of fear within me when it comes to being alone; I used to be very good at it, but now I avoid it. I surround myself with people. The only time that I’m alone, in the car, I listen to a podcast.
I used to work so hard on myself and my personal growth. I think this was deeply connected to my running. Running offered me the time to get lost in my thoughts and force me to look within myself. The parallels between running and life continue to astound me.
As I’ve stopped running, so have I stopped working on my personal growth and development. Different life stages require different parts of us, and it makes sense to me that a new born requires a different amount of effort and energy than a 9-year-old—which explains a lot. I miss myself and I miss knowing myself. I miss knowing who I am when I’m not with children, not working and not around other people. I miss intimately knowing my life’s direction and the trajectory I want it to take. Looking internally scares me a little now. What if I don’t like who I find inside? What if you don’t like who I find?
In becoming a mum again, I have experienced a loss of self. One which I tried hard to hold onto. I promised myself that when Solomon was born, I wouldn’t lose myself again, but I don’t know if it can be avoided. I think it’s a part of life, the way it ebbs and flow. I think you re-discover yourself in every stage of life, and moving forward means losing the old you in favour of the new you. In every new stage, maybe even every new day, you are meeting a new, unknown version of yourself.
Maybe I never actually lost myself in the journey of motherhood and life, maybe it’s more that I’m finding a new version of myself daily.
So, here I go again, looking and searching and discovering. At 33, I thought that I would know who I am; I thought I would know what my life was meant to look like. That was, until this morning, when I realised that if I ever stop learning about myself it’s because I’m dead. I will forever be changing, shifting, and learning that my worth isn’t based on what I do—because what I do changes from day to day.
So, right now, when I have an 20-month-old and 9-year-old, it makes sense that I don’t know who I am away from you two, but I will. One day, when I’m not feeling like all I do is cook and clean and breastfeed, I will learn who I am again.
But, for now, while I’m in this phase, I will try and appreciate it for what it is.
Instead of feeling lost when I’m not with you both, I’ll enjoy the silence and getting to know who I am again.

I still miss you though, and that's okay!