Carrying Mixed Feelings This Week

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[00:00:00] If you're like me, you're carrying a strange mix of feelings into this week. A little holiday joy, but also some heaviness. The end of the year has a way of stirring things up, especially when you've spent the past 12 months growing, shifting, and holding so much for everyone else. Today I just wanna offer you a moment of stillness.

I'm going to read two poems from the book, from one mom to a Mother by Jessica Ulrich. These are words that speak directly to my soul, to the ache and the beauty of change, and the strange wonder of who we are now. I'm Krissy Bold. I'm a stay at home mom to two little boys, and this is Mom's Guide to Finding Herself.

These two poems looking for her and my life found me on a night where I felt like I had nothing left in the tank. One of those nights when the house is finally quiet, but your brain is loud with thoughts like, who we even, am I anymore or will I ever feel like [00:01:00] myself again?

Jessica's writing stopped me in my tracks because it didn't try to fix anything. It just witnessed what's real, and sometimes that's all we need. She has a new book coming out in March, 2026 called They Bloom Because of You, and I've already pre-ordered it because this stage of life needs more poetry like hers.

It's honest, tender, and totally unafraid to sit in the complexity of motherhood. Let me read you this first poem.

Looking for her. I've been looking for her a little bit lately. The old me, I've been missing her. My husband balance, the scales have been tipping for a long time. I've either been out of my mind or inside it too much. It still feels like we're in the thick of it, even though there's no newborn anymore.

Chat is usually about things like having showers at night to save time in the morning. Kisses are rushed or missed. [00:02:00] Goodbyes are muffled through closed doors. I'm then gathering up the things to leave the house with. I find myself sitting in the car with the kids in a disheveled state, unsure where we're going.

I wonder how I look to others now, do I look like a mom? I'm still confused. I know I need to eat better, but if I'm ever alone in the car, I find myself scoffing McDonald's at the lights like an animal. I'm confused how some days I can feel like a lioness and others, a chameleon still trying to fit in.

I'm confused why people tell me to enjoy every moment. I am certain I'm growing more through the ones I've enjoyed the least.

I'm confused by when I talk about how hard self-discovery can be through motherhood, I always feel the need to tie it up with a, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. Of course I wouldn't. I don't need to validate it, just leave it untied as the endless string of moments it's meant to be. I'm confused.

What [00:03:00] do I even enjoy anymore? This me in mum, this motherhood lined jacket that some days doesn't warm up and others fits just right. I wonder if motherhood truly does strip you back or is it just another layer entirely? So consuming that, breaking it down to our core simply takes time.

What I do know though, is it isn't necessarily about going back to the old you, old genes, old lifestyle, old body. It's about becoming, maybe I have to stop looking for her so that she can come and find me.

There's something really comforting about how she puts words to that vague feeling. So many of us carry that sense of missing yourself even when life is full. I think that's what I love most about her writing. It doesn't rush to fix anything. It just sits with you in it.

The next poem, my life is like a soft exhale. [00:04:00] It speaks to what it's like to grow alongside your kids and how over time you realize you haven't lost your life. It's just shifted, and that shift doesn't have to be scary. It can be something quiet and steady, something that still belongs to you

my life. As they grew from babies and their measurements climbed the wall these years in permanent marker and how they grew so tall, they'd say, it must be nice to finally have my life back as if I lost it. Like I simply left it behind. As they grew from babies, the heaviness did rest like rising out of water.

No weight upon my chest, but did my life go missing. Was I just biding time, searching for a place I knew a place no longer mine. As they grew from babies, their words no longer broken. No longer did I wait to heal forever [00:05:00] now, cracked open your life back. They would say as fragments of my time would show up in full hours.

But what about this life? As they grew from babies was I fishing for those days? Trying to reel them in as if wishing this away for why is everything lost? Do we simply veer off track my body, my time, and yes, my life? Why must we get everything back? As they grew from babies, I learned to leave some room for life had plans as well as mine. I did some growing too. Oh, sweet. Old life. I want to say it isn't you. It's me. When you are growing, how could you ever resume normality

as they grew from babies, their newborn smell long gone. Would that girl from long ago? This one I sometimes mourned is my beating heart not proof. This life, it did [00:06:00] not end. It beats to a new rhythm. Now it beats for me and beats for them. So as they grew from babies, I knew I wasn't the same, and this life that I once had in the best way would be changed.

So I am no longer searching. I am no longer running. They are my life. This is my life, and I am now becoming.

Listening back to those poems, I notice how much of motherhood feels like a conversation between who I was, who I am, and who I'm still becoming. And this time of year especially, it brings up all of it. The longing, the love, the wondering. There's a part of me that still wants the clarity of my old life, the version where I knew what made me, me.

And then there's this quieter part. Learning to trust that maybe I don't need all the [00:07:00] answers right now. Maybe this middle place, the searching, the noticing, the shifting. Maybe it's enough. So if you're in that space too, sitting in the in between, I hope these words helped you feel a little more seen, a little more grounded, and a little more okay with exactly who you are.

In the next episode, I'll be showing you some ways that you can look back on your year and reflect on everything that you've done and how you've grown without just looking at the, I should have done more of this, or I want to do more of that. If this episode felt like a deep breath, would you please send it to a friend who might need one too?

I know that they would appreciate it. And if you're not already following the show, go ahead and hit that follow button or that subscribe button so you don't miss what's coming in the new year. It means so much to me to have you here.

Thank you for listening today. And remember, you are an amazing mom just the way you are.