I put down the dish cloth after drying my last dish. It’s the holiday season and everyone is enjoying themselves in the living room, their bellies full of the meal I have created. I am thankful that we are all relatively happy, healthy and together.
However, this darkness is around me. As I am almost concerned that I do not exist. I pinch myself, I feel the slight pain racing up my arm, so I have to be alive but do I exist?

I am so proud of my children. I love them and could talk about them endlessly. But as soon as my first bundle of joy entered this world, my opinion on matters of politics, life, art and my thoughts and feelings exited.

My immediate family will literally interrupt me in the middle of a sentence. Often. Okay, almost all of the time. It’s like I have said something insulting or embarrassing. However, it may have just been a story about meeting a new neighbor or a book I was looking for. My personal achievements or just thoughts and feelings of my day are virtually ignored. I am the ignored Mommy.

My inlaws talk amongst themselves, have their laughs and inside jokes amongst the rest of the family. I am not a part of the “good old boys club” so I often smile and try to keep up, not invited into conversation but expected to listen. I just want to be a part of the conversation. I open my mouth to acknowledge something one of my relatives has said. Interrupted, again. I pinch my wrist. Still existing?


Ever since I could remember, I have always been the person who loves to include the newcomer. From elementary school and even presently, if there was a new kid or a new neighbor, I wanted them not only to feel comfortable in their new situation, but to get to know them. I wanted to ask them questions and learn more about them. I enjoy people. But, it is no longer reciprocated.

Family asks for the basic statistics about my children and husband; how tall or how much their neice, nephew or grandchild weighs, how they are doing in school or what they have done recently. How’s the Mister? For that, I am grateful that they care about my children and my husband. Since my first little one was born, I like every Mother, have gone many sleepless nights, forgot what a full nights rest really means, juggled work, both at a job and within the home, tears, accomplishments, tantrums and more. I enjoy that I get to be a part of this but I miss basic human interaction outside of work. I am educated, post graduate with a love of human interaction. I love to listen to different opinions and learn from others and share my thoughts and feelings on various subjects. I love to learn and from the slight bruise on my right arm, I am definitely still alive.

I believe I have all of the ingredients to be heard. I genuinely listen and enjoy hearing about the lives of others. I just want to get a sentence out where someone acknowledges my existence.

I think it’s time to stand up, say my piece and let my children know that they have not only a loving, nurturing Mommy, but a strong Mommy who has a voice. I am going to do this for myself, (I need the interaction with someone, anyone!) But also so my little girls know that they too, will have a voice if they choose to have children. One of the greatest gifts they could give them, is their Mommy: full, confident, loving, nurturing and who takes an interest in the happenings of their life time and that being a Mother is a powerful status in life, not an invisible one.