identitycrisis

story by | deb uglem

I remember the days when I had it all figured out. I was young, newly married and ready to take the world by the tail. I was living in Chicago, working on my career, living in a loft and enjoying the big-city life. Well, to be honest, I landed a computer sales job and the loft was more of a second-floor house apartment and city life consisted of walking to Wrigley when we had enough cash for general admission tickets. But you get the idea: I was headed somewhere. I knew what I wanted and who I was. I was confident and felt like I had a direction. During this time, Sally B.C. [Before Children] would watch moms and think [judge] how I would be different. I would be “put together;” my children wouldn’t cause a scene in the grocery store; and I would continue my career and my goals in life wouldn’t change. I mean, how could they? I would still be the same person, right? Insert giggle here!

The minute I became a mother I had my first identity crisis. Sally A.C. [After Children] fought to maintain a sense of self. The meaning of “put together” turned into “showered” and it didn’t happen every day. My kids making a scene in the grocery store didn’t bother me; it actually seemed easier to handle when I was sharing it with the cashier and other mothers—it was as if they were sympathizing, not judging. In short, I struggled. The once-confident woman was questioning her identity. What had I become—and was it enough?

While my children were young I found myself in a continuous identity crisis. I wanted to be the perfect woman with a balanced career, friends, social life, hobbies, and well-behaved kids. Not to mention being the perfect wife. I fought this for a while, which resulted in lack of sleep, anxiety and ever-present mommy guilt. Then one ordinary Tuesday night I had what I guess you would call an epiphany.

I looked down at three little boys sitting on a bench in a hockey rink waiting for someone [mom] to tie their skates. My boys were waiting patiently [insert another giggle here] for their turn. Through the duration of the next hour I watched them skating on the wrong side of the ice, plowing kids over [accidently, I’m sure] and eating ice shavings while making snow angels. I had a smile on my face the whole time. I was thinking of nothing but my boys and enjoying that moment. Meanwhile, a mother came over and we started visiting, but not about work accomplishments or my many hobbies. It was all about the kids—ages, schools, skating, schedules. I was relaxed and confident on the subject. I answered her questions with ease and enjoyed the conversation. As I drove home it hit me she didn’t even ask my name. To be fair, I didn’t get her name either. From that day on she became “the hockey mom with the puffy coat” [it is still a mystery to me how some ladies make puffy coats cute, but that’s another story]. Our names didn’t matter. That day I realized that I was “the boys’ mom.” I knew I wasn’t the perfect mom but I was the perfect mom for them.

It was then I realized “mom” was probably my strongest identity at that time. I was good at it, I think, and it was something that truly made me happy. It was shortly after that I decided to be a stay-at-home mom. This was not a decision I made on a whim and, frankly, I was scared. But something had to change. I was beating myself up about not knowing exactly what I wanted or being happy with every aspect of my life. Now I realize a balanced life to me isn’t balanced at all. I have been a newlywed, career woman, a new mom, hockey mom, stay-at-home-mom, basketball mom, career woman again, stay-at-home mom again and currently a career mom—yet again.

Now I slip in and out of identities as fast as Clark Kent becomes Superman. I know this list will continue to repeat itself and possibly include new titles. Today I would tell my young “world-by-the-tail” self to relax and enjoy the questions that an identity crisis raises. Whether it is staying at home, taking a big promotion, or following your passion, it is ok to keep changing and experiencing new things. You will never be able to catch the “tail” if you’re not willing to chase it. It can lead to something wonderful. As I look back now almost 20 years since my first crisis I am celebrating my past choices because they have made me the woman I am. Some might call me indecisive but I like to think of it as evolving—one identity crisis at a time.

Raised in Finley, ND, Deb has called Moorhead her home for the last 11 years. A graduate from Drake University in Des Moines, IA, with a degree in Journalism and Mass Communications, she is currently Communication Director for Wanzek Construction. Deb welcomes the pleasant distraction that writing brings and thanks her children Jake [19], Tony [18], Nick [18] and Emily [15] for inspiration. Deb and her husband Tim like to spend their free time running in several directions with kids and on the golf course.

—anonymous