decade of hindsight, I can see that I clearly separated my mum/family self and my young/fun self. I had my routine during the week, and then on a Saturday night (babysitter willing), I went out with my friends and was a regular twentysomething with no responsibilities. I was compartmentalising the different areas of my life. I think I was protecting my ‘me me’ from my ‘mum me’ so as not to lose myself completely. At the time, I thought my struggle was only that of a teen mum, but I’ve since realised that this is not an age-specific battle.
A lot of women struggle with the weight of motherhood. Transitioning from a pregnant version of your regular self to Mum without feeling any different at all is impossible. But you can find your way back to someone you recognise after such a life-changing event—it just isn’t going to happen overnight. Some throw themselves into their new parenting job so entirely that they forget they are separate entities from their children. When those children then grow up and need them less, these women have a hard time adjusting to life in some role other than that of a mother. Others are so focused on not being swallowed up by parenthood that they try to retrieve their former lifestyle too quickly. This can result in major ‘mummy guilt,’ coupled with resentment that they can no longer squeeze into their favourite skinny jeans. It’s hard to know who you are as a woman after becoming a mum. From all angles, we’re being told what is and isn’t appropriate, and that ‘advice’ is changing constantly. Is going back to work empowering, or am I abandoning my children? What’s the current feminist temperature?
If I do go back to work, what do I wear? Is there an etiquette once you have kids? Do I want to be a yummy mummy? Is that still a thing? Or is it all knee-length skirts and no cleavage now? What if I stay home? Am I expected to look frumpy, or do we dress up for playgroup? What about those lycra-clad mums at the school gates? Is that appropriate, or are we judging them? Should I be wearing lycra? Should I have gone back to the gym already? It is a minefield!
My youngest, Milo, is now seven and I’m still wondering if I should be making more effort to regain my pre-baby body…only in my case, that body was eighteen, and my thirty-two-year-old body is tired just thinking about it.
Mum guilt is real, folks. In fact, Lily Allen included a track on her album entitled Three that had me in floods of tears the first time I heard it. The gist is that the child doesn’t understand why mummy is always working, and it perfectly encapsulates how I think many women feel after having kids, whether it’s while returning to work, chasing a dream, or just taking an extra-long bath. That being said, you could have kept that one to yourself, Lil! A bit too on the nose. Once Milo was in school full time, I started accepting more opportunities that took me away from home. I was pursuing something for myself that I suppose could be seen as selfish, but if I had a traditional job with long hours or that required travel, wouldn’t I feel just as guilty? I would use the ‘if I were a man’ example, but I know that my husband feels his own ‘Dad guilt’ from the number of hours he spends sword fighting while watching Peter Pan on Saturday mornings. I’m not ready to concede that he feels as bad as I do, but I don’t think it’s quite the male/female divide it’s been in the past.
Maybe you’re not a mum (and maybe I’ve just confirmed your lifestyle choice), but age can have just as significant an impact on your self-confidence. I wasn’t concerned about turning thirty because I’ve felt thirty-five since I was twenty-one, but I see my peers melting down over this milestone birthday. All. The. Time. Maybe you have a bucket list to get through in your twenties and you’re not there yet, maybe you’re scared of looking older, or maybe you’re already worried that people are thinking your skirt is too short for a woman ‘of your age’. Whatever the reason, let me assure you that your thirties will not be as scary as you think. I know you’ve heard it all before, but confidence does not come easily to the young. One of the biggest advantages of growing older is caring considerably less about what other people think of you. It’s not a switch that is flipped, and I still have my wobbles from time to time, but I can say with absolute certainty that I never worry about what anyone else thinks of my outfit choices anymore. Whether I’m smartly dressed for a meeting or in leggings and a sweatshirt on the school run, I do not care. My children care a little, but we’ll get into that later.
So, who are you, and why is that important? Most of us are trying to emulate someone else when it comes to style. Whether it be a celebrity or a mannequin in a store, you’ve been inspired to buy that outfit by something or someone other than yourself. In my early twenties, I flip-flopped between Jessica Simpson (thanks to the show Newlyweds, the DVDs of which are now my prized possession) and Lauren Conrad. LC was definitely more of a realistic icon, but still, both all-American girls with very different lifestyles from this Northern English lass. I’m going to talk in more depth about where to find inspiration as well as the impact of social media later on (and I’ll try and dig out a few photos for you of my celeb-inspired phases), but for now, I want you to get a clear picture of who you think you are before we really start the process. If it helps, here’s a snapshot of the current me:
Married, thirty-two, works part time, two kids in school, one dog at home, writes a blog; enjoys lipstick, trips to the cinema, and ‘comfort dressing;’ has finally accepted that ‘mum’ isn’t a derogatory label, still wants to look like Jessica Simpson or Lauren Conrad if at all possible.
Fifteen years ago, it would have read more like this:
In a relationship, works at Subway, lives at home, enjoys drinking, watching TV, READING (when I had the attention span to dedicate to fiction), and swapping clothes with my best friend in an attempt to get into nightclubs at which we’ve previously been denied entry.
Write a little blurb about yourself and then let’s talk about life style.
Contributors
Okay, I know it’s hard, and at this point you might already have written me off as too tough a taskmaster for what you thought would be an easy read. So, to help you out, I’ve enlisted the help of some willing participants (read: internet friends to whom I’m forever indebted) who will be sharing some snippets as we go to provide alternate examples and opinions. Style is very subjective, so it’s always useful to hear from more than one voice.
Having a child impacts everyone in a different way. I asked my contributors how their confidence was affected by motherhood…
‘I became very anxious socially, which really knocked my confidence. I actually did a video on this and how I had social anxiety being a first-time mum. Thankfully, that has changed, and I’m much better now. But when it comes to my looks, I don’t have much confidence, and I find social media makes that worse, not having a child.’
—Liza
‘It didn’t…not at all.’
—Jane
‘It affected my confidence negatively towards [my] body; however, it had a such positive affect on my confidence due to the fact I just love being a mum so much, I’m so proud of my kids every day, which gives me a huge boost.’
—Emma-Jane
‘Many ways, body wise, as I’m still carrying a good few extra pounds, meaning the jeans and clothes that really feel like me just don’t work at the moment. But beyond fashion and beauty, it’s such an overall life change that it can shake your confidence in every area of life.’
—Jen
‘After having my children, I actually felt more motivated than ever to discover Joanna. I’d always hated clothes shopping in the past, and I’ve always struggled with my weight fluctuating, so prior to children I never found any joy in clothes or getting dressed. When I went back to work after
