I sat at my computer in the spit-up stained clothes I’d had on for the last three days.
Surely things aren’t this bad, I thought. Catching a glimpse of myself with hair unwashed and three-day old mascara smeared under my eyes, I knew it really was this bad. I was failing and flailing at motherhood, and no matter how embarrassed I was, I knew I needed help.
Out of sheer desperation, I shot off an email to some friends of mine a bit further down the motherhood road than me. Within minutes, my inbox filled with several “me too” moments and survival tips.
My friends didn’t judge me. They poured much needed digital encouragement into my heart and soul.
That’s what community does. It reminds us we aren’t alone.
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