Peace of mind

A real mother and not what I am now. Because I feel like I’ve been a mother (at least in some sense) my whole life. For as long as I can remeber I’ve taken on this motherly role for people: my parents, cousins, siblings, siblings’ friends’ younger siblings, my friends, random children at the playground. I was always adopting somebody.

my parents said I was adorable as a child, pretending to breast feed my baby dolls I didn’t fully understood my actions.

I was always Wendy, never one of the lost boys. I want to be Peter Pan.

I’ve soothed people, of all ages and walks of life - but the “I’m here, I’m here”s have always felt empty. Inside I hear “mummy’s here, shshsh it’s ok, mummy will protect you.” You’re not my child.

I was always the mum friend I fucking hate that term.

But you always praised me for it I liked being needed, but I liked your approval more.

And now I don’t know if I like the idea of having kids because I actually want to have them, or if it’s just because that’s the role I’ve always had; it feels natural. but I’m so tired. I’m so tired of being everyone’s mother. I want to have my own identity. I can’t take care of you anymore.