Motherhood: What I Didn’t Know I Was Stepping Into

Almost six months. Almost six months of discovering a love so deep it feels endless, and almost six months of feeling like I’ve left parts of myself behind.  

Aurora, my baby girl, is my light. Her laughter fills the air with joy, her tiny hands remind me of the beauty in small things, and her eyes hold a whole universe. I look at her and think, How did I get so lucky? But in the quiet hours, when she’s finally asleep, I sometimes feel the weight of a question I can’t shake: Where am I in all of this?

Motherhood has a way of consuming you. It’s beautiful, yes, but it also asks for all of you—your time, your energy, your heart. And in giving so much, I sometimes forget that I’m more than a mother. I’m a woman with dreams I’ve placed on a shelf, hobbies I’ve put on pause, and a self I’ve been too busy to recognize.  Some days, I feel like I’m not enough. Not patient enough, not strong enough, not "mom" enough. I wonder if I’m doing right by Aurora, if she’ll grow up feeling loved in all the ways that matter. But then, in her smile, I find my answer: love doesn’t have to be perfect to be real.  

I’m learning to forgive myself—for not knowing everything, for making mistakes, for being human. I remind myself that Aurora doesn’t need a perfect mom. She needs me. And that’s what I’ll always strive to be: her safe place, her biggest cheerleader, her imperfectly devoted mother.  But being her mom doesn’t mean I have to lose myself. I’ve started to reclaim little pieces of me. A stolen moment with a book, a quiet morning sipping tea, a few minutes to write my thoughts like this. These small acts feel like opening windows in a room I forgot was mine.  

And then there’s us. Me and my husband. Our relationship has changed, too. It’s no longer the carefree love we had when we were newlyweds or the giddy excitement of our dating days. Now, it feels steadier, deeper—like a quiet river that runs strong beneath the surface.  Quality time has become a luxury. We steal moments here and there, talking softly while Aurora sleeps, sharing knowing smiles across the room, or laughing over something silly she did that day. Most of our conversations now revolve around her—her milestones, her future, our plans as a family. But in between all of that, there’s still us. The teasing, the jokes, the occasional "You’re still my favorite," whispered like a secret. It’s different, but it’s ours. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  

Motherhood is a journey of both losing and finding. I’ve lost some of my old self, but I’ve also found new strength, new love, and a version of me that I never knew existed. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what life is about—growing, shedding, becoming.  

At the end, all those times when I feel a little lost, I remember that I am still me. Beneath the diapers and sleepless nights, beneath the roles and responsibilities, there’s a heart that’s still beating for me. I take a moment to listen to it. I deserve to be cared for, too.  

This journey isn’t perfect. It’s messy and tiring and full of questions with no easy answers. But it’s also beautiful in ways I never imagined. And that’s what makes it worth it.

:) 

Embracing Adulthood: Navigating Life's Uncharted Territories

Embarking on the journey into adulthood is akin to stepping into an uncharted territory, a vast landscape of uncertainties and revelations. It's a phase where the tapestry of life begins to take on new colors, weaving intricate patterns of growth and self-discovery. As the familiar landscapes of adolescence fade into the rearview mirror, there's a palpable sense of excitement tinged with apprehension. The once-distant horizon now beckons with the promise of independence and autonomy. The air is charged with the anticipation of navigating through unexplored territories, each step laden with the weight of decisions that will shape the contours of the future.

Stepping into adulthood is like embarking on a thrilling yet daunting journey, a rollercoaster ride of responsibilities and self-discovery. As the tides of life carry me into this new phase, I realize the importance of maintaining a smaller circle. Gone are the days of countless acquaintances; adulthood beckons for genuine connections, quality over quantity. It's about understanding that my inner circle shapes my reality, impacting my growth and well-being.

In the midst of adulthood's turbulence, there's a hesitancy to let go, a reluctance to face the possibility of losing. The friendships forged in the fires of adolescence are the ones I've always counted on. The thought of losing someone who has been a pillar of support is unsettling. It's navigating the delicate balance between holding onto the past and embracing the future, grappling with the fragility of relationships that once seemed invincible.

There's a vulnerability in witnessing the human side of those I once looked up to. Adulthood unmasks the heroes of my youth, revealing that even the strongest have their moments of fragility. It's a revelation that shakes the foundation of my admiration, forcing me to accept the imperfect nature of those who once seemed infallible. The mentors, the role models – they too are human, with flaws and insecurities.

Adulthood teaches the lesson of not trying too hard, of recognizing the futility in chasing perfection. It's understanding that life is messy, and it's okay not to have it all figured out. The pressure to conform to societal expectations can be overwhelming, but there's a beauty in embracing the imperfect, the unpolished. It's about finding solace in the authenticity of my journey, understanding that the pursuit of excellence doesn't mean sacrificing my sanity.

The ambitious spirit that fueled my youth needs recalibration in adulthood. It's realizing that success isn't solely defined by material achievements but by the quality of my experiences. The relentless pursuit of goals can lead to burnout, and amidst the chase, I might miss the richness of the present moment. Adulthood is about finding a balance between ambition and presence, understanding that the journey is as significant as the destination.

Living in the moment becomes a mantra in the adulting handbook. The constant planning for the future and dwelling on the past can overshadow the beauty of the present. It's about savoring the small victories, relishing the mundane moments that make up the fabric of everyday life. Adulthood is a paradoxical dance between striving for a better future and appreciating the simplicity of the now. It's about finding joy in the ordinary, in the routines that shape my days.

Embracing the mundane life and embracing mediocrity doesn't mean settling for less. It's a call to redefine success on my terms, detached from societal pressures. Adulthood is about realizing that mediocrity is subjective, and there's dignity in pursuing a life true to myself, irrespective of external judgments. It's an understanding that happiness isn't always found in extraordinary achievements but in the fulfillment of a life aligned with my values and passions.

As I navigate the labyrinth of adulthood, I find solace in the realization that the essence of life lies not in the grandiose achievements, but in the authenticity of connections, the acceptance of fragility, and the beauty found in the ordinary. Embracing this journey with open arms, I discover that adulthood is not a destination but an ongoing exploration, a canvas where each brushstroke contributes to the masterpiece of a life well-lived and the depth of my personal journey.

Giving Up Social Media: Should I?

The year was 2021. In a world buzzing with tweets, snaps, and endless scrolling, I found myself at a crossroads. The question that lingered in my mind was as simple as it was complex: should I give up social media?

The idea had been bouncing around my head for weeks. The constant notifications, the pressure to post the perfect picture, the mindless scrolling that seemed to steal hours from my day – it all felt like a whirlwind I couldn't escape. But could I really disconnect from the virtual world that had become an integral part of my daily life?

One evening, fueled by frustration, I decided to embark on a social media detox. No more refreshing timelines, no more endless stories, just a break from the digital cacophony. As I deleted apps from my phone, a strange mix of liberation and anxiety washed over me. What if I missed out on important updates or exciting news? Would my friends forget about me if I wasn't constantly present in their online lives?

Days turned into weeks, and the initial discomfort began to fade. Instead of reaching for my phone during idle moments, I picked up a book I'd been neglecting or went for a walk without the constant urge to document it for my followers. Surprisingly, the quiet moments without the constant buzz of notifications became a refuge, allowing me to reconnect with the tangible world around me.

Yet, doubts lingered. Was I losing touch with the pulse of society? Were friendships fading away without the virtual threads tying us together? It was a paradox – the very platforms designed to connect us had left me questioning the authenticity of those connections.

As the weeks turned into a month, the fog began to lift. I realized the value of genuine, face-to-face interactions. The laughter that wasn't interrupted by the need to capture the perfect Instagram-worthy moment became more profound. Conversations regained depth without the constraints of character limits.

However, there was a void. The updates from distant friends, the instant access to global news – these were undeniable perks of the social media era. It wasn't a black-and-white decision, and I grappled with the shades of gray.

In the end, I found a compromise. Instead of a complete abandonment, I opted for a mindful re-engagement. I reinstalled a few select apps, unfollowed the noise, and cultivated a curated online space that added value rather than cluttered my mind. The detox had given me the perspective needed to navigate the digital landscape on my own terms.

Giving up social media wasn't a cure-all, but it was a reset button. It allowed me to reclaim my time, nurture genuine connections, and savor the moments without the pressure to document them. In this journey, I discovered that balance was the key – a lesson that transcended both the virtual and physical realms.

What's on My Mind Right Now?

I am not sure about what is exactly going on my mind right now. Because everything is mixed up. Everything is there. It's like an airport on a pre-pandemic peak holiday season. Crowded and busy and stuffed and chaotic.

If my mind was a cabinet, it definitely not sparking any joy. Marie Kondo would have had busy time in there.

Merapal Semoga-Semoga

Setiap tahun, di awal tahun, aku selalu membuat resolusi dan harapan-harapan tentang apa yang ingin aku capai pada tahun tersebut. Terakhir, awal tahun 2021 lalu, aku membuat daftar hal-hal yang ingin aku dapatkan di tahun ini yang aku tempel di dinding sebelah tempat tidur. Harapannya, setiap bangun tidur aku jadi semangat mengejar apa yang sudah aku tulis. Nyatanya, sampai pertengahan tahun belum ada satupun poin yang tercapai. Bahkan, di bulan Agustus, aku mencabut daftar itu dari dinding dan membakarnnya di wastafel dapur. Sungguh tragis.

Namun, begitulah. Terkadang target membuatku merasa dikejar-kejar. Aku menyadari berpaku pada target-target yang rigid tidak cocok untukku. Maka, alih-alih membikin target-target sepertinya akan lebih cocok kalau yang kubuat adalah daftar harapan. Lebih simpel buatku dan tidak ada keharusan untuk mendapatkannya. Namanya juga harapan, yakan? Hehe.

Aku punya tiga harapan terbesar yang aku harap dapat terwujud dengan usahaku dan restu Tuhan. I wish to be happier and healthier. Ada yang bilang kalau bahagia itu sederhana. Bagiku tidak juga. Beberapa tahun ke belakang, bahagia bukan sesuatu yang mudah aku temukan. Akhirnya, berpengaruh juga ke kesehatan. Sering pusing dan sering pingsan (Tahun 2019 adalah tahun sering-seringnya aku pingsan. Pernah di kamar mandi, di dapur, yang paling parah di pasar). Tahun ini, aku berharap menjadi pribadi yang lebih sehat dan bahagia. 

I wish to have more time to savor and send gratitudes. Sebenarnya, aku berharap punya lebih banyak waktu, titik. Tetapi aku menyadari, jika aku punya lebih banyak waktu saja pada akhirnya akan aku buang-buang untuk sesuatu yang tidak terlalu berguna. Maka, aku berharap, punya lebih banyak waktu untuk menikmati melakukan hal-hal yang aku suka, memusatkan perhatian pada setiap momen yang aku lalui, dan bersyukur untuk semua itu.

I wish for a better relationship. A better relationship with my parents, my sister, my family, my boyfriend, my friend, well basically everyone. I know that I am not that good at keeping a lasting relationship. My social and communication skill are awful. Aku ingin mencoba untuk bersosialisasi dan berkomunikasi dengan lebih baik. Walau berat dan menyeramkan bagiku untuk secara intens berhubungan dengan orang lain, aku harus tetap mencoba. Karena, pada akhirnya, aku sebagai manusia tidak akan sanggup hidup untuk diriku sendiri. Dan, percaya deh, terputus dari dunia luar, menghadapi masalah sendirian bukan ide yang bagus apalagi menyenangkan. 

Bagiku, harapan adalah sesuatu yang tetap harus diusahakan. Apalah artinya kalau kita menginginkan seuatu untuk terjadi tapi tidak berbuat apa-apa untuk membuatnya terjadi. Setidaknya, berusahalah dulu walau sedikit. Selebihnya, biar tangan Tuhan yang bekerja. Semoga takdir Tuhan selaras dengan harapan kita. Aamiin ~

The Time that I Felt Proud of Myself

Makanan yang aku masak untuk makan siang 🥰

Honestly, It is hard for me to describe one moment. Dahulu aku merasa kebanggaan datang dari prestasi atau pencapaian besar dalam hidup. Sewaktu aku kecil atau lebih muda, tidak terlalu sulit bagiku untuk berprestasi. Dari situlah kebanggaan datang. Tidak hanya untukku, bahkan untuk orang lain seperti orang tua, teman, atau keluargaku yang lain. Pada waktu itu, sangat mudah bagiku menceritakan saat-saat aku merasa bangga pada diriku sendiri. Namun, seiring aku tumbuh, lebih sulit bagiku untuk berprestasi. Sehingga, lebih sulit pula untukku merasa bangga pada diriku.

Semakin aku dewasa, aku menyadari bahwa kebanggan tidak selalu datang dari hal- hal besar. Sesuatu yang lebih sederhana pun bisa membanggakan apabila kita dapat memaknainya. Saat ini, aku merasa bangga kepada diriku ketika berhasil melakukan sesuatu walaupun kecil atau sederhana. Aku merasa bangga setelah bersih-bersih. Aku merasa bangga setelah memasak makanan enak dan mengeksplor resep-resep baru. Aku merasa bangga setelah membaca buku. Aku merasa bangga ketika berani berbincang dengan orang lain. Aku merasa bangga ketika menambah dua kalimat dalam draft tesis.

Intinya, setiap hal positif yang aku lakukan membuatku bangga karena diriku telah berani melakukannya. So, if I am asked to describe the time that I felt proud, it would take a long time to tell. Because, everytime I'm done doing something, I feel proud of myself.