A Love Letter to Motherhood

Tweet about this on TwitterShare on FacebookPin on PinterestEmail to someone

Dear Motherhood,

Thank you for you. You and your gorgeous, exhausting, confusing, fairy-dust filled self came pouring into my life and nothing could have prepared me for the beautiful mess you made. You cracked me open and brought me to my knees. You have exhausted my body, my soul, and my spirit so deeply that I have no time or energy left for anything inauthentic. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for putting a mirror in front of me and demanding that I take a good look at myself, my body, my work, my friends, my everything. It has all grown better because of you. All of it. Not right away, you gave me quite a run for my money in the beginning. So much anxiety, so much fear, so so so tired. But now. Now my voice is clear, my opinions are solid, my body is my boo, my friendships are deep, my community is strong, my work is meaningful. It’s because of you. You brought me my girls, you showed me my partner, you introduced me to myself. I don’t always like you. I can be whiney. I’m perpetually exhausted.

But I love you. I love you. I love you. So much.

Brooke Miller

The only way to know if you have it together is to truly fall apart, and fall apart big. Motherhood, you were the catalyst to my unraveling, and the reason I put myself back together. The reason I stopped searching was because of you. I realized that the meaning of it all was right in front of me; sleeping, snorting, pooping, and sucking everything out of me, my boobs, and my brain. Motherhood is the point.

I emerged—after the storm—from motherhood.

Motherhood is making, building, birthing, sustaining, growing, loving– both my babies, and myself. Motherhood is taking the best of myself and witnessing what another human does with it. Motherhood is taking the worst of myself and witnessing how another human inspires me to be better. Motherhood is seeing women around me in a new way. Motherhood is seeing myself in a new way. I don’t want my body back, because that would mean you never happened. I don’t want my life back, because that would mean you never happened. I don’t want any of it back. I want you. You and your completely insane magnitude of madness. You and your beauty. You and your sparkle. You and your exhausting confusion. You challenge me. You love me. You chose me. And I choose you right back. Thank you for making me better. Thank you for making me take stock. Thank you for making me me. Thank you for my family, for the mess in the living room, for the bags under my eyes. Thank you for trusting me to raise these humans and raise them well, while becoming a better human myself. What an opportunity you have given me.

Thank you for forgiving me when I screw up—over and over again. Thank you for their smiles. Thank you for introducing me to the other side and for inducting me into a club I didn’t even know existed. My family, my work, my people. All of it is better with you. And thank you for yoga pants. Oh, and for coffee. Thank you for coffee.

I love you, motherhood. Thank you for choosing me.

Happy Valentines Day,


Brooke Miller is a mom of two girls, a psychotherapist specializing in maternal health, and the founder of Honey for Moms, a place for moms and moms-to-be in Metro Detroit. She has written for several publications including Self, 944 Magazine, and The San Francisco Chronicle and served as the parenting expert on The Ricki Lake Show. You can find her at www.honeyformoms.com.

Subscribe to Newsletter