This is my reality.
These maternity pants, with their elasticited waistband, soft fabric and perfect amount of stretch, which allow me to move freely and uninhibited. When I’m crawling beside my daughter, kneeling and playing cars with my son. Bending, stretching, reaching. Constantly, throughout the day as I tend to the never-ending demands and needs of a toddler and a baby. These pants which are highly unflattering but oh-so convenient, with their softly sagging knees that betray how many times they have been worn. From one too many bends, one too many play sessions.
This is my reality. A super soft Motley Crue tank top that is easy to throw on in the mornings, which I can just slip aside to nurse my daughter. Inevitably milk stained, because I ngve the freedom of not wearing a bra, no matter if my bra size dictates otherwise.
I am an active mother. I’m beside my children, playing in their imaginary worlds; we get messy, we have fun, we paint, we draw. My body is a climbing frame, a race course, a comfort. My hair is pulled, my face is grabbed, my breasts suckled. My body is as much theirs as it is mine. So I want, and need, to be comfortable.
This is my face without makeup. The scattering of summer freckles that are only visible when I am barefaced… and the blackheads, too. The dark circles from 9 months of broken sleep and night time nursing sessions with a baby who has yet to sleep longer than 4 hours at a time. This is my unwashed hair, which I haven’t blow dried or styled since we moved to the USA – 18 months ago. The roots that need bleaching. The hair loss at my temples – the result of three pregnancies, the birth of four children and the death of two, and a whole lot of stress. My unplucked eyebrows, and the scratch on my face caused by an excited baby who hasn’t yet learned how to show affection gently.
My glasses, because my eyesight is terrible and I haven’t yet found time for laser eye surgery. Glasses which are tugged off my face multiple times per day, a source of much fascination to a baby. Glasses which were new and trendy 8 years ago, but are now unfashionable, and I don’t have the time nor inclination to find new ones. Marked with the day-to-day dirtiness of life with two small children.
I remember shortly after Everly was born, I was idly scrolling through Instagram during a late afternoon nursing session and I was devastated to see it filled with other women who had given birth in the same time period as me – posing for fashion posts for their blog, their heels high and their hair perfectly coifed; stylized flatlays and cute pictures of them laughing as they frolicked in the city with their trendy strollers and designer diaper bags.
I hadn’t got dressed that day. My teeth were unbrushed. I hadn’t eaten. I hadn’t done anything besides the all consuming nature of taking care of a toddler and a newborn baby, who nursed every 2 hours and would only sleep in her mama’s arms. The nightdress I was wearing was inside out, buttoned incorrectly, stained with milk and most likely spit up, too. My greasy hair was in a ponytail. I was tear stained. I was milk stained. I was exhausted.
These women looked so perfect, so put together.
“And then there’s me,” I said to my husband. “This is the reality of life with a newborn. I wish someone would show this.”
But I was (and am) guilty of it, too. The images I posted last Christmas with my perfectly drawn red lips and freshly dyed hair would make you think I had it all together. But that was the first day since my daughter had been born that I had worn makeup. A special treat for a special occasion. Everly’s first Christmas. Our first Christmas in the United States. A one off thing.
In the Instagram world, we only ever see the carefully put together ensemble, and not the grubby old t-shirt grabbed from the bottom of the laundry basket. And we often only hear about the proud parenting moments, but not about the yelling matches or the time our toddler reduced us to tears. And sadly, it’s that skewed view we compare ourselves to.
I lose my temper with my children. I eat my toddler’s leftovers for lunch and sneak chocolate cake when he’s having a nap. I mindlessly watch Snapchat instead of practicing mindfulness. I only ever wear makeup on the weekends.
But I don’t post photos of that on social media. That is, until a few comments on my Instagram made me pause for thought – here I was reading;
“You make it look so easy.“
“You look so beautiful.“
“How do you do it?”
And I wanted to laugh, or cry, because the answer is, I don’t. I struggle daily. To look after my children. To look after myself. To have patience. To find time for anything but keeping my children happy. Or at least cared for.
And that was the moment I realised I needed to share more of my reality.
My words are always authentic, and I often share my struggles, both on my blog and as captions alongside my Instagram photos. But I’m now acutely aware that in this fast paced digital world, time is sparse and words are often skipped over, and a picture says a thousand words. Except when it doesn’t. A photo doesn’t tell the story of postpartum depression, or the intense grief over two dead children, or the loneliness after a long day filled with the tantrums of two small children and no adult company.
There is so much more to a person than their Instagram feed. It can be easy to see a pretty picture and make assumptions about a person’s life.
I never want other mamas to look at my photos and feel like they are falling short. Instagram is my highlight reel. The photos on Instagram don’t tell the full story. They don’t even tell half of the story. It is a place where I curate my favourite photos. The ones that are picture perfect; vibrant, light and airy.
These photos are not my reality. They are my creation.
So here it is, my candid reality. In all it’s raw, unedited glory. It feels liberating. And I hope at least one woman out there feels reassured.
So please keep all this in mind when you scroll through your social media, beautiful mamas. I know you know it, but I think we all need reminding from time to time.
Share your true self with the hashtag #mycandidreality and tag a mama friend.
You are amazing! There is so much pressure on women to be perfect mothers and look like supermodels while doing it. I have read and loved your blog for a long time, since before you were married to Matt – I am now expecting a child of my own and will continue to enjoy your blog posts. Thanks so much xx
Thank you so much for your comment, it’s especially lovely hearing from people who have followed my journey over the years! x
LOVE this. I am going to make sure I re-read this when I have children too. It’s tough to think everyone’s perfect but in reality, we all are – whether we wear makeup or not.
As always, love your writing and your posts.
Thanks Amy, just thanks. I’m off to weep. My life in all its glory. So glad I’m not alone.
I’m reading your blog since you and Matt are planning your wedding. Not a wife myself yet or mom, back then. I watched you becoming a wife and mother through here… I even felt your pain the dark and sad days. It was a great thing you shared the ugly truth of a moms reality. I, myself,also felt so terrible watching all these Instagram perfection of mom’s. It’s like I wrote your post. My words. Big thumb’s up and lots of love and respect.
M.
I’m so glad you’ve done this! Your Instagram is one of my favourites and I must admit I am always comparing and wondering how you do it. I have 2 kids too.. a 3 year old and a 6 month old who doesn’t sleep and I used to think why can’t I do it when everyone else can? But I need to remember most of peoples lives are hidden on Instagram! xx
Thank you so much for being so open and honest Amy in your words and pictures. It is so refreshing and takes such guts. I LOVE scrolling through your photos on instagram and I must confess that I have had moments of feeling ‘how does she do it?’ too as your photos are so beautiful! I think it is natural that we want to show the best version of ourselves. Thank you for showing the reality of being a busy and dedicated mummy! X
Thanks, Amy. In 2 month’s time, I’ll have my second child, too, and I’ll be looking after my toddler. Thanks for being honest and having the grace to share ‘the struggle’ with other mothers. Thing is, I think you look gorgeous anyway and the way your kids look at you… You are their world! That’s what I hope to be.
Aww, thank you! I hope life with two isn’t too difficult so far. It gets easier, I promise!
I’m not a mother, but I’m at a time in life where my best friends are becoming mums and I’m starting to be more and more aware of the challenges (and the joys) that come with becoming a parent through the stories they tell me. Reading this was really, truly beautiful. Not be all dramatic but you’re SO right about the highlight reel and these photos are just gorgeous in all their seeming ‘imperfection’ – they still capture moments that are pretty special, even if not as glossy and polished as the internet world has come to expect. If it’s any help, I have nail-polish free nails and cuticles drier than the Sahara right now and I don’t have the totally valid excuse of caring for little people… Beautiful post x
Thank so much for your comment, Jen! I hope more people share their candid reality and we can all realise none of us are perfect 🙂
Wow-what an amazingly relatable post. Thank you Amy xx
This is utterly beautiful. I wish more mothers would show this side, instagram-motherhood as you describe it is depressing as it makes hormonal mothers feel that they should have it together more. Thank you for this xx
Thank you, Meera. Motherhood is so hard as it is, without the constant comparisons on Instagram. x
Yay. And thank you. X
This is such an honest,genuine, fantastic read. I am a mum too, I have a 9 month old and I can relate to what you are saying. This will for sure help other mums out there feel comfortable in their own reality. God bless you for such a bold move, takes courage but sure so many mums out there appreciate this. Love your blog and writing style…….wishing you all the best!!
Thank you so much for your lovely comment, it means a lot!