25-year-old me probably would have rolled her eyes at 35-year-old me. 

25-year-old me never dreamed I would become a stay at home mom to three kids under the age of four.

25-year-old me knew nothing of kids’ bedtime routines, or the cost of daycare or the fun of pumping in a makeshift closet at work. 

At 25 I was driven, ambitious and ready to do what it took to build my career in the marketing and advertising world. Now mind you I didn’t have a specific game plan. I just knew that I wanted to build something that mattered, eventually own my own business, and have a “successful career.” I was a little fuzzy on the details of how that would all come together. But what I did know was this:

• • I had no desire to ever be pregnant (although I was conceptually okay with adoption)
  • I did not want to marry someone in the military (who could potentially mess up my career aspirations) 

Although I literally lived in the same city from birth until age 18, I wasn’t completely blind to what military life entailed. I had two grandfathers and three uncles who had served in the Air Force. I spent my life hearing stories from my grandmother, dad and cousins about the military lifestyle. And I was convinced that lifestyle was not for me.

My biggest fear was that I would marry someone and get stationed at some base in the middle-of-nowhere where I wouldn’t be able to continue my career. 

But then I met my husband. He was charming, funny, ambitious, and loved volunteering as much as I did. On an intellectual level, we hit it off immediately. But there was one glaring problem – he was in the military. 

Six months later, I finally agreed to go on a date with him. One date couldn’t hurt, I told myself. But that one date turned into more dates and then into a legit relationship. Still, I wasn’t sure we were meant to be together. Because, military. 

After dating for about 10 months, boyfriend headed off on his first deployment. I was a terrible girlfriend. I told him I wasn’t sure we would make it through the deployment. He told me he loved me. I said, “Thanks, babe.”  

But all it took was that one deployment for me to know that I didn’t want to spend my life without him. We started planning our wedding as soon as he returned. 

Fast forward two years later. He called me one afternoon at work and told me he had orders to move – to a base in the middle-of-nowhere. My biggest fear had actually come true. I left work in tears. (He has since learned that there are better ways to discuss major life-changing events).

He packed up our house and headed out for training almost immediately. A couple months later I quit my job and moved to the Texas-Mexico border to join him. I was three hours from any major city, living in a small town where being bilingual was practically essential for getting a job. For the first time since turning sixteen, I was unemployed with zero job prospects. 

In typical me fashion, I moped. (I am working on this). And then I took matters into my own hands and opened a coffee house. But that’s another story for another day.

A few years later, we moved again. In the moving process I found out I was pregnant (after coming around to the idea of being pregnant, and then subsequently dealing with infertility for a couple of years). I found a job soon after we moved and thankfully the company granted me unofficial leave without pay after Baby Girl #1 was born. A year later, another job opportunity landed in my lap and I made the leap. A few months later, I found out I was expecting again (Baby Girl #2). I hadn’t worked there long enough to qualify for FMLA, but thankfully they granted me unofficial leave without pay as well. 

That job turned into an opportunity to work from home, even as we were moving to a new duty station. But trying to juggle two toddlers, military life in a new city and working from home was a lot. So I decided to take a break from working for a few months.

I knew we would be moving again that summer, and the plan was for me to start rebuilding my career after our move. We got our orders, found a house we loved, and surprise – a positive pregnancy test (Baby Girl #3). 

Suddenly, I went from trying to find a job that would cover the cost of two kids in daycare, to needing one that would give me unofficial maternity leave, flexibility to pump at work, and pay enough for me to afford daycare for three children. Plus, I really didn’t want a long commute. After exploring the available job options in the area, I determined that it wasn’t worth it. 

For the first time ever I found myself officially a stay-at-home-mom. This definitely wasn’t in my career plan. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure I was cut out for the SAHM-lifestyle. I was again struggling to find myself in a new community, helping my kids get acclimated, and I desperately missed adult interaction and using my brain for more than answering “WHY” questions from my three-year-old. 

I hated the thought of spending every day cooking, cleaning, changing diapers, and breaking up fights on repeat. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had completely lost myself. 

I went in search of something to provide me some sanity. How did stay-at-home moms do it? The first thing I found was a podcast for stay-at-home moms. I tried listening to it and ended up frustrated. The basic advice given was on the hard days to just remember “this is what you always wanted.” 

Umm, what if this was never what I wanted???  

NOTE: If you have always wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, that is awesome! There is WAAYYYY too much mom guilt out there…Mom guilt for working…Mom guilt for not working…Mom guilt for not being happy staying at home…Mom guilt for being happy staying home. Uggh! Let’s just all support each other! 

Anyways, there I was. Unemployed in a new city. Pregnant and chasing two toddlers around. Letting my husband feel the brunt of my frustrations. And feeling completely inadequate at pretty much everything. 

I knew something needed to change. And the only thing about my situation I could change was myself. 

So as I mentioned in this post, I began a journey to find myself again. I prayed. I journaled. I read. I listened to podcasts. I thought about all the things that bring me joy. I went on a solo vacation to visit a friend in Hawaii. (Thank you, hubs for staying home with the girls!) I became intentional about starting each day with thankfulness. And I found ways to bring engagement and meaning into my life.

As I began to work on myself, I slowly became more content with the season of life I was in. And as I became more content, life got better for everyone. Because when I am empty, burnt out and exhausted, I am not bringing life to those I can about most deeply.

The point of this is not what specific actions worked for me, but rather that no matter what season you are in, you can find contentment and joy. You can thrive despite your circumstances.

Nope, it isn’t easy. It is a daily practice. I am continually working on finding joy in the mundane. I am working on being present in the moment. I am working on filling my cup so that I can be a better spouse, better mom and better friend.

We can take what we have been given and find a way to thrive. And not just to make ourselves feel better, but to to help others thrive and flourish as well. And when we do that, we contribute to a flourishing world.

That’s ultimately the point of this blog. I don’t have everything figured out. I don’t know where the road leads, but I want to share my journey and what I am learning along the way. My hope is that in doing so, it will encourage, equip and inspire you to begin your own journey to freedom, flourishing and influence. 

Drop me a note below and let me know one way your life looks different than you thought it would.