It’s been quiet over here in Professional Wild Woman blogging land, but certainly not quiet in my life. I’m finding pregnancy and impending motherhood to be such dynamic states that I can barely even catalogue all the new challenges and curiosities, let alone sit with them long enough to compose a coherent blog post.
Thus, the list of unanswered questions grows by the day, piling up like the stack of newborn onesies in the corner of our bedroom.
What is this crazy-beautiful-uncomfortable phenomenon happening in my body? Every single part of me is affected – my blood, my breathing, my hands and feet, my energy level, my thoughts, my dreams, my sex drive, my emotions, the fluids coming out of every orifice – every orifice – my muscles, my bones, my priorities, my focus, my taste buds. . . I mean, who even am I anymore?
How will I be as a mother? I’m driven and successful in the arenas of education, career, and business but am I nurturing enough? Am I patient enough? How do I know I’m cut out for this?
Will I be able to balance a business and a child – hopefully someday at least two children – without having either suffer? Every time I sit down and try to envision how it will work, I see blankness. I just have no idea. I feel like I’m jumping off a cliff in an unfamiliar land with a blindfold on. I graduated high school in three years, became a middle school principal by age 27, traveled all around the world by myself, and started a successful business, but I’ve never done anything like this before.
I don’t have answers to any of these questions. But this week I got a big ol’ dose of perspective when both my uncle and grandmother died – from different sides of the family in completely unrelated, unexpected deaths. Bam. Boom. What??
My grandmother’s death especially struck me. She was a feisty, 4’11” Italian woman with a generous heart, an endless supply of hugs and food, and a quick, wit. It is from her I have always felt I inherited my sassy wild woman side. She spoke her mind and lived how she wanted and didn’t apologize for any of it.
It has been difficult to watch her mind decline over the past ten years or so. During many visits, she seemed like a shadow of her former self. But there is one thing she never stopped being, one role that her brain held on to with ferocity and unshakable instinct: mother.
In my workshops, I often make the point that we humans are the only creatures who ask ourselves the question, “What is my purpose?” Elephants and otters don’t wake up the morning wondering what to do with their lives. Why? Because they already know. “And the truth is, so do you,” I say to the women. “It’s just that your innate, wild knowing has been trained out of you by a culture obsessed with the taming and boxing in of women. Find your way back to your inner wild woman, and she’ll show you your purpose.”
I guess it’s time now for me to apply the same logic to mothering. Just like my mother and grandmothers, and their mothers before them - just like the elephants and otters – some part of me knows exactly how to grow this baby, and will know exactly how to mother him when he’s out.
Thank you, Grandma. Go boldly into the light knowing you leave behind a legacy of delicious, sassy wisdom that I do not take for granted. Give my little baby boy a hug as you pass each other in the ethers, will you? I’ll make sure to tell him all about you once he’s here.
What type of wild woman are you?
Hello! I'm Melanie Munir, founder of Professional Wild Woman - a women's empowerment business dedicated to helping women who are tired of feeling either "too much" or "not enough" to connect to their inner wildness so they can create work that allows them the fullest expression of their unique voice. Welcome!