Author: Liz Dawes
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Marrying and having children had a profound effect on me, and one for which, it turns out, I was totally unprepared. 

I went to NCT classes, read plenty of books and chatted with friends in a similar position, so I thought I knew what to expect.  But in common with so many women, I had only spent time learning about my future family.  I gave no thought to the future me at all.

I’ve discovered since that my story is a common one.  As life unfolded, I became someone’s wife, someone’s mother and the provider of someone’s grandchildren.  Little by little my identity was eroded, until it became normal to see me as defined only by my relationship to other people.   It starts with language, which at the time seems insignificant but which speaks volumes about how we see women with children: “Will all the mummy’s come over here?” and “What does your husband do for a living?” and “Oh hi, you must be B’s mum”.  Then, it seemed like convenient short hand.  Years later I realise I had been referred to like this for so long that it became the entirety of who I was and what I did.

For some of us, being a wife and mother is all we will ever need to be fulfilled and happy and that is fine.  There is a sharp grief to confront when children leave home, but nonetheless it’s a perfectly valid choice. 

For others, the loss of identity is hard to accept, and leads to resentment, weariness, even depression.  If you struggle through that, the day comes when we finally have some time to ourselves.  And suddenly, we are at a loss to know what to do with it. Rather than address the issue, we fill the time with chores and activities that we did before, but tell ourselves it is much easier to do now the children aren’t under our feet, and indeed this is true.  But though this takes the immediate pressure away, it does not address the issue of identity at all.  That nagging sense of being no more than the family slave remains.  It’s hardly the kind of achievement you’d want carved on your headstone.

If this strikes a chord with you, and if the time has come when you are finally freed up from the most intense periods of childcare and family life, then it’s time to reclaim yourself. 

The real change came for me when I took myself out of home life and did something that was just for me.  I’m convinced that this is the key.  Find one thing for you, that you really love to do, and force it, anyway you can, into the diary.  I already know that you don’t have the time or the babysitters or the money but just do it anyway.  And be thoroughly selfish.  No joint tennis lessons or couples nights out.  This is about you, and only you, doing something you love.  Being yourself.

I decided to join the rather fabulous Popchoir. Given I have a voice like a dying cat and don’t believe in god, I went for a Glee style choir rather than a choral choir.  We sing pop songs, sometimes with funky dance moves (my Gaga has to be seen to be believed), we chat too much, and we have a fabulous time.  The brave amongst us even perform in public.  No one cares if you are in a couple, what you do or where you are from.  We are young and old and gay and straight and serious and silly.  Most importantly, for those few hours, we are whoever we want to be.

And that’s what makes the difference in the end.  So many women I’ve spoken to in the course of writing this have said the same thing – at some point in their journey through married life and motherhood, they lost themselves.  And now there is time to reflect, they have no idea who they are or what they want to do next.

I don’t pretend the solution is easy.  But it starts with finding that carefree little girl you used to be, grabbing her by the hand, and letting her out to play.