If I sit and think really really really hard, I think, I can just about remember what I was like before I had a baby. Who incidentally is now a three year old child. Yes. Just three. So that means I can just about remember what I was like a little over three years ago. To people without children, that isn’t a hard task to do. But I’m sure I’m not alone with other parents when I admit that it feels like a lifetime ago and it’s really hard to remember who I was and what I used to do.
There will also be the other Mums who remember exactly who they were because they continue to do what they did before parenthood took over. Some will have returned to work full time. Some will have gone back to the gym the minute they felt like it and some will have continued on their weekly nights out with the girls. Good for them. I wasn’t one of those Mum’s. I was the opposite.
It’s taken me a good while to be able to admit, without feeling guilty, that I miss the Old Me. That’s not to say I don’t like the new Mum Me, but I am on occasions, a little sad that the Old Me isn’t around much these days.
Old Me used to get up in the morning and decide which outfit to wear to work and then decide which pair out of the huge selection of shoes, she was going to wear with said outfit. Old Me used to go to the shops and casually mooch around going from one shop to the next before deciding where to buy the clothes or the shoes from. Shoes. Hmm, you see the pattern forming here?
Old Me was very much about the shoes. It was MY thing. Everyone knew it and oh how I miss the shoes. I still have the shoes, well, most of them. I just don’t get to wear them as often these days. I should point out here, that when I refer to ‘shoes’ I do in fact mean, ‘high heeled shoes’. Beautiful, pretty, high heeled shoes. For all this time, pushing a pushchair, carrying a child when he refuses to walk and running around in the mornings trying to get me & the little fella out of the house on time wasn’t practical in 4″ stilettos. I got into the habit of pulling on something comfortable – (although I need to point out here, I’ve never worn shit shoes. Let’s just get that clear right away). And so I kind of got stuck in a bit of a rut and would just look wistfully at my beautiful shoes all sat in their boxes, looking all a little bit sad and lonely. Which in turn made me feel a bit sad and lonely. MY thing, wasn’t MY thing anymore, and it felt really unfair.
Then the other day I had a bit of a revelation. What the hell was stopping me from wearing them now anyway? I have four hours a day where I am not looking after my little legged friend, four hours a day where I can have prettiness on my feet and relish in it. Four hours a day where I can be Old Me.
Of course, there was much more to Old Me than what I wore on my feet (honest, there was!) But this was something that was unique to me. It was one part of me that had well and truly got lost amongst the daily life of Mum Me. Almost an identity. No one wants to lose their identity.
This post may sound real trivial to some and I’m sorry if it does. But I make no apologies for Mum Me working her way back to Old Me. It’s been a long time coming.
Now, who’s up for some shoe shopping…? 😉
What do you miss about your old self? Or have you got a love of shoes to rival mine? Let me know in the comments.
Thanks for reading.