I have not been myself lately. By lately, I mean the last two years since my daughter was born. When I sat down with my journal a few months back, I didn’t even know what to write. I used to fill pages with opinions, thoughts, dreams, aspirations! But as I sat in bed with the Moleskine, I barely had anything to say at all. I finally scribbled down some vague bullet points, major items of note from life, but it felt as though I no longer had anything I wanted to preserve on the page about my own inner life. It was all mundane grocery-item type things. And that’s not who I am, or at least, who I was, before I became a mother.

Lest this sound dismal, let me reassure you that motherhood has been like a joyful cozy sweater. I love it. This seriously can’t be overstated. But eventually I wanted to peel those layers off a bit, let my soul breathe and feel the sun on my skin again, to run with the metaphor. After realizing I didn’t even know how to mine my own mind for my journal anymore, I realized I needed to figure out how to peel those layers back a little more. To that end, this has been a season of slowly uncovering myself. Bit by bit, I’m trying to find myself under there, layer by layer.

There was the time I went to the art museum, all by myself, to an exhibit I’d been dying to see. I bought myself a single ticket and wandered slowly, letting my eyes drink in the different portraits in the huge, expansive wing they took up of the gallery. There were no little hands pulling on mine, dangling bonelessly like a macaroni noodle or plopping down to sit (or lay or flail!) in inappropriate places. I lingered. I went back to paintings twice, three times, even a fourth! I sat on a bench in front of a huge, grand painting that moved me and I did nothing–absolutely nothing–but stare at it as the minutes ticked on. With each minute, I found myself. That was one layer, peeled away.

There was the time I went camping with friends, and marveled at the river flowing swiftly by our campsite. We came across a fat green caterpillar, and watched, fascinated, as it worked its way slowly across our path. We crouched down, marveling at this tiny fellow, and I felt a wave of happiness flood over me. To stumble across a thing of nature, and take it all in, quietly watching it was something I hadn’t realized I’d been missing for two years. And now, here I was, in the woods with a delightfully chubby caterpillar, feeling raw delight in nature. Another night, I saw a lovely Luna Moth in the work parking lot and lingered, watching it until it disappeared, not rushing home with blinders on to the world around me. I’m living more in the world, paying more attention, caterpillar by caterpillar, moth by moth. This is another layer, peeled away.

I’ve started to learn a new skill too: quilting, although it could just as easily have been something else. I’m on my second quilt now, the second being marvelous because of the progress I can see taking place when I compare it to the first quilt! I’m discovering as I learn that I’ve still got surprises left in me. I’m enjoying the process of creating something, of stretching my creative muscles again. It’s not journaling that’s stretching me now, but something new entirely. Taking time to get immersed in a new thing–that’s another layer, peeling back every day.

The person I’m discovering underneath all these layers–she’s the same me I was before, but she’s different too. It’s like looking at a mirror and discovering you have a new haircut. It’s you, but a little different. A little changed. It can take a little getting used to, but it’s so, so worth it.

Motherhood has changed me, made me prioritize my daughter over myself in many important and necessary ways. And I still find moments of quiet reflection with my daughter in tow, still find time to look at little critters and caterpillars together, still learn new things together. But I’ve found it’s important for me as a person, as a wife, and as a mother to take the time to do these things for myself too. I don’t know quite what the person I finally unearth will be like, but I suspect that even with some little changes I’ll find myself under there in time, and will be a better mother for it–a more grounded one. I have not been myself lately, but layer by layer, I’m finding out who that person is all over again. And it’s marvelous.