I looked here. I looked there. I went to this story time and that play date. I went to the park, I went to church.
Nope, not there. I couldn’t find it.
I wanted that village that I had heard my mom, my aunts and my grandmothers talk about.
A village to help me raise my children to be good people.
A village to help me in times when I was down and needed to be raised up.
A village that would encourage me to make good decisions and help me see light through the darkness.
A village that was kind.
A village that loved.
A village that supported.
I couldn’t find it.
But maybe I had the wrong ideas of a village and what it should be?
I don’t need a village to watch my children, I need a village to empower me.
I don’t need a village to bring me meals, I just need to hear it’s okay to order pizza once in a while.
I don’t need a village to help me engage with my kids, I just want to know its okay to not enjoy every single waking minute of motherhood and be given the nudge to push forward anyways.
I don’t need a village for a night away from the kids, I need a village to help me become comfortable in my own skin.
So when I finally stopped looking, I found out that my village was right here in front of me, it just didn’t look the same as the village did 30+ years ago.
Because here I am in Florida and my village sits on her couch texting me with her troubles in Pennsylvania.
My village is 3 hours behind me in Oregon and sends emails wondering what she should put on her baby registry.
My village listens to me tell the same stories while I cry to her on her ride home from work in New York.
My village sends me messages from Colorado that sometimes push me through the moments I’m on the edge.
My village is two hour phone calls from New Hampshire that are months apart but make the distance and time between us fade.
And my village also has moms right here in this city that support and love me through it all. But I didn’t find them until I was comfortable knowing I had a village out there somewhere.
My village, your village. . .it’s everywhere.
Motherhood is a challenge. It wasn’t meant to face alone without other mamas, but I think it’s time to let go of the idea that our village has to be physically near us to hold our hands and guide us through.
My village is far, my village is wide. But my village holds your heart and walks you through the darkness to see the light. And man, when they help you find your light, they help you shine.
Be a part of my village, grab your spot on the wait list here: