top of page

The Season of Me.

  • cynthiafoustvenner
  • Dec 14, 2020
  • 3 min read

At some point, I realized within the time frame of the birth of my three kids, I had become them. I had to. They needed me to become them, to foster them, to guide them, to love them.


Recently, I realized I needed to find ME again. After all these years making everyone else happy, it was my turn.


With loss, can come gain. Through all those tears, rainbows.


My Mother had always promoted travel. She was the one who organized our first trip to Europe when I was 11. In fact, she was the one who practically shoved me on that plane to go and live in Rome, Italy against my will.


I have recently found the need to remind myself that I held multiple degrees, that I am well read and actually love to read. I needed to remind myself I have traveled, and traveled more than most. I needed to remind myself I was worthy, I was worthy of a season of me.


Sometimes in the quest to become a good mother, we forget to be good to ourselves. I am not perfect, hell on some days I am keeping it together by a thread. But what I forget to do is remind myself that I am enough. Even halfway, I am enough.


Sometimes I need to remind myself of the Cynthia that got me to where I am now. The things and memories that made me happy.


I needed to remember. The girl who lived in Rome. The girl who used to navigate the Upper East side with ease. The girl who can read a whole book in hours. The girl who had the strength to hold her Mother up for years after her Father died because it broke her. The girl who lived in Hoboken. The girl who was raised in Jazz clubs across NYC. The girl who got to go back stage at her first Broadway play, Annie, because her Dad had pull. The girl who was raised on the East Coast with Midwestern values. The girl who had a career before she packed it all up, willingly, to raise a family. The girl who loves to be creative. The girl who used to speak French and broken Italian. The girl that loved nature and photography. The girl that would love to get lost in any Museum.


All of the experiences that have made me the way I am. I need to REMEMBER them. I need to be PROUD of them. I need to EMBRACE them. I need to RETURN to them.


Somewhere in all of this journey of motherhood, I forgot about me. How is that possible? Very. Especially in the daily hustle and bustle of raising 3 kids and managing a household.


I love my kids more than life, but sometimes I have to remember to love myself.


Yesterday I took my kids on a hike, and then to a petting zoo. Did they think it was for them? Of course.


Really, it was for ME.


It was for ME to remember that I love a good adventure.


It was for ME to reconnect with the outdoors.


Will this be something my kids remember? I hope so because one day they may find that this experience helped shape them in some way.


That is also why I started this blog, for ME.


Life can get messy. Life can be chaotic. Life can also be beautiful.


In the mean time, my advice is don't forget about YOU.


Just a gentle reminder.


Xoxo, C.





 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Running.

My kids aren't the only great runners in the family. So am I. I am great at running into trouble. I am amazing at running away from problems. I am highly skilled at running away from responsibilities

 
 
 
Two Forces To Be Reckoned With.

When he got worse and moved a state over, we would obviously talk a lot more on the phone. We talked all the time to begin with, but as time went on, our chats became different. Obviously the tumor wa

 
 
 
2026

Who finds out that their partner is going to be diagnosed to die on NYE? Who is at the hospital when the doctor says terminal brain cancer on New Years Fucking Eve? Jesus. You couldn't be kicked hard

 
 
 

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post

Subscribe Form

Thanks for submitting!

©2020 by 2020 The Year That Nearly Killed Me.. Proudly created with Wix.com

  • Twitter
bottom of page