The pursuit of joy
I’ve come to think that my own concept of “joy” has been radically redefined since giving birth, without me even realizing it.
After feeling “off” for a good while, I decided that I desired and deserved help, and started seeing a therapist a few weeks ago. The initial diagnosis: “baby blues”. Postpartum or prenatal, it’s early to say. But one of the very first questions he asked me was “what brings you joy?”. For what felt like the most uncomfortable 5 minutes of my life I sat there under his stare, frantically trying to come up with an answer. The more I thought about it, the more desperate I got to just say something, anything. That feeling stuck with me.
It felt like lately nothing truly brought me “joy”, and I was simply going through the motions of life a day at a time, grateful but unsatisfied, without joy. And even when there was joy, it often came with a side of guilt or regret as it involved being by myself, as opposed to spending precious time with my family.
Back to my therapist and his nagging question - the one and only answer I could come up with was my very last recollection of feeling joyful, which was when I witnessed S’s first steps. He nodded, and came up with an interpretation which nearly blew my mind. Safe for a health issue, which thankfully isn’t S’s case, kids his age inevitably start walking. This didn’t depend on me. S is thriving and will continue to thrive regardless of how inapt I feel as a mother sometimes. Regardless of me needing time for myself to “blow some steam” or simply recharge. He will certainly thrive with me, but also without my ominous presence. This realization lifted an incredible weight off my shoulders - it brought me joy.
Since that personal epiphany I decided to start a joy journal, to try and recognize that there is indeed joy in my life, and to hopefully get to know myself a little better. The list below is a work in progress, and what a massive progress it has been since that initial question:
Grabbing coffee and cake at a cafe (by myself, with my family, with a friend)
The kick I get after my first coffee in the morning
Having one-on-one conversations
Realizing that S is growing and has an independent personality, but still needs me
Walking around with a coffee warming up my hands on a cold day
A clean and organized apartment
Nice-smelling candles
Buying flowers for our home
Making S laugh, without tickling him
Reading a book without wondering at the back of my head whether it’s worth my time
Traveling somewhere I’ve never been before; ideally somewhere where I don’t speak the language
Both unplugging from social media and using it to connect with people
Device-free date nights
Feeling my baby girl move and kick
Daydreaming about moving to Japan with my family
Parenting with YY (something as mundane as drying S together after his bath makes me feel in my element, as if all the decisions I’ve made that got us to this moment were right)
So maybe what brings me joy hasn’t changed that much since becoming a mother, after all - it has expanded. Given my very introspective nature, many of the activities that have always brought me joy involve me being alone. Note: not lonely. I need time to think, to recharge, to reflect. I not only crave; I need time by myself. I often wonder if this is innate to me, or if I’ve become this way due to being an only child (hoping to answer this after some more therapy sessions). What has changed since giving birth was in fact the guilt that I now often feel whenever I do carve out time for myself. And this is what needs to be worked on.
Either way, it is honestly and unfortunately not a feeling that I desire for my children in our super-connected world. Being an introvert is often misinterpreted in both professional and social contexts; one can come off rude, shy, way too serious - all of which are not adjectives that relate to me at all. I do hope my children are happy on their own, but also that they can find joy in constantly being with others, more than their mother does.
Accepting who and how I am has been a very long journey with many ups and downs, and one which I am nowhere near reaching a final destination. But if there’s one thing I’ve recently learned is that the pursuit of joy and the road leading to accepting who I am are interdependent journeys - there is not one without the other.
It’s also a journey that goes beyond being an only child, an expat, an introvert, a mom - all things that I use ad nauseam to define, categorize, and limit myself. Oh, I’m also learning that introverts can be good parents, too, if you’ll allow them a solo cup of coffee from time to time. Through therapy and writing, I am coming to terms that finding time for my own joy while performing my motherly duties isn’t selfishness - it’s self-maintenance, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.