52 Weeks Of Blogging With a Purpose: Who I Am

I'm linking up with Becky over at From Mrs. To Mama this week.  She had this fantastic idea to blog "with a purpose" once a week for the year, and I love it.  This week's blog focuses on who I am.  The first things that came to my mind when I started writing this were:  daughter, wife, sister, mother...the usual suspects, if you will.  But if I'm going to be blogging with a purpose I want to go a bit deeper than just a typical surface answer.  So first things first...



I am a daughter, sister, wife, mother.  It's hard to describe myself without including these things.  I've been all of these things for some time now, and I often find it difficult to remember that I'm something other than just Bailey and Gerry's mom; Scott's wife; Tim and Donna's daughter.  It is what it is...and I am who I am.  But I'm also more.

 I am a fighter and a survivor.  Not in the traditional sense, but in my own little way.  I was bullied as a child and I survived, albeit it with a bit of a skewed perspective of the world around me.  I've overcome numerous health issues and struggle daily with postpartum depression and anxiety.  I'm learning to be a voice and an advocate for both myself and my children.

I am empathetic.  I always joke that I don't have working tear ducts because I don't let myself become emotional in front of other people.   I don't cry at movies or when I hear a sad story or watch a sad commercial on tv.  But I feel things very, very strongly.  I may not show my emotions in public, but that doesn't mean that I'm not affected by people and things happening in the world around me.  Watching the news at night can send me into a tailspin of internal sadness and regret that takes days to recover from.  When someone makes my daughter sad or upset it takes every fiber of my being not to lash out at that person (more often than not, a child).  When someone I know is going through a rough time, I feel for them as strongly as if it were my own struggle.

I am a caregiver.  Every mother says this, but there is no getting around it.  Every day, I care for my children.  Whether it be the simple and "usual" tasks of motherhood, like feeding them, bathing them, playing with them.  Or whether it be in a more "important" or creative way...kissing away boo-boos, banishing monsters at bedtime, fixing hurts in my children's lives, whether they be real or imagined.  In a million little ways, I am a caregiver.

I am an idealist.  I try to see the good in every situation.  The glass is always half full, things could always be worse...look on the bright side!  I try to see the best in people, and I refuse to go through life being jaded and assuming the worst.

I am a pack rat.  My husband can and will attest to this, because he hates it.  I hate throwing things away and almost everything has some sort of special meaning to me.  The Christmas ornament I made back in Kindergarten?  Can't get rid of it!  I mean, I created that reindeer out of a clothespin and red puff-ball...with my own two hands.  I can't just throw it away!  The piece of paper my toddler drew on with a pen, like, 14 months ago?  It has, literally, one little squiggly line on it and it's still hanging on my refrigerator.  I can't bear to throw it away.  Everything, even the silliest and most inconsequential things, has meaning to me. 

I am a mother.  I know I said this at the very beginning, but I honestly don't think I could tell you who I am without including this.  I am a mother, and it's the scariest, most fulfilling, best thing I'll ever be.

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So that's me in a nutshell.  I've left a lot out, I'm sure.  But these are the things that come to mind right away when I think of who I am.  Check back for next week's topic:  10 Things I Live For!