What are you carrying in total silence?

I was sitting on the couch the other day watching Alone. You know the one—the survival show where people are dropped in the wilderness to see how long they can last. It’s entertaining, sure, but it stopped me in my tracks.

It made me think about the ways we do life alone, even when we aren’t technically by ourselves.

The Survival Instinct: Lessons from the Wilderness

I watched a man on the show tap out in the most beautiful way. He didn’t leave because he ran out of food; he had actually caught five fish the day before. He tapped out emotionally. He realized he had spent his entire life suppressing his emotions because that’s how he was taught to survive—and he was teaching his kids to do the same.

Intimate close-up of a mother lying in bed, holding her newborn baby skin-to-skin against her chest while breastfeeding on white linens. — “When we give birth, we open ourselves up to a portal of everything that has not been met. It is a full-body experience that demands all of you.”

Birth as a Portal: Beyond the Physical Experience

When I think about physiological birth, there is no way you can suppress what’s been hiding. It is a full-body experience that demands all of you.

I believe that when we have a physiological birth, we open ourselves up to a portal of everything we’ve ever pushed down. When I gave birth my first time, I had to confront fear and control. I realized that surrendering—or release—was the antidote to that fear and control.

I didn't even realize I had been suppressing fear because the "Mask of Smiles" was just who I was.

“When we give birth, we open ourselves up to a portal of everything that has not been met. It is a full-body experience that demands all of you.”

I just wonder what we are carrying, and what we have carried for so long. Motherhood opens you up to a completely new way of being that doesn’t allow you to carry things the way you’re used to. Maybe even things that you were never meant to carry at all?

The Wack-a-Mole of Masking: When "Fine" Isn't Enough

I got really good at the mask. But then the postpartums came, and the mask became insufferable—especially during my second postpartum.

I felt like a foreigner in my body. I loved my daughter, but I wasn't in love. She, too, felt like a foreigner in my arms. I was more familiar with her in my belly than outside of it. Getting to know her in my arms was clunky and confusing.

I remember my doula telling me: “We all love our babies, but it’s so different when we fall in love with them. And it can take time.” Ugh. What a relief. And I was too afraid to admit that to anyone at the time.

We all love our babies, but it’s so different when we fall in love with them, And it can take time.

I felt so out of control. My time wasn't mine. I didn't know how to orient myself around another person's needs 24/7. I was exhausted, caught off guard at how many times I had to change outfits due to projectile spit-up, the noise was more than I expected, and I was not familiar with the unpredicted interruption in a task. a simple task that usually took five minutes might have taken 15. I couldn't color over the messy and make it perfect. The mess was spilling out, and every time I tried to mask it, it spilled out in a different spot. Like wack-a-mole.

Seeking the Standing Ovation: The Trap of External Affirmation

I had to ask myself: Why am I not being honest with myself and others? What are we protecting ourselves from?

For me, I thought if I pretended I was fine and had it all together, I’d get the standing ovation. I’d avoid criticism. I wanted to avoid the judgment and opinions. But I realized that other people’s affirmation is like the banking of the wind—you don't know when it's coming and you can't really trust the direction of it because it's based on their values, not yours.

We all suppress. We all have these amazing parts that protect us, and they are doing a really good job. I am so grateful for that part of me that protected me then. But I had to learn to sit with that mask and see what it needed from me. For me, that part needed me giving myself affirmation on a daily basis—things like, "Of course this is hard, that makes total sense," or "I am amazing. I are showing up consistently and that matters. I’ve got this. I am enough. I trust myself to handle what is in front of me."

A mother outside on a blanket, breastfeeding a young child while another child rests nearby and a third child looks on with a smile. — Naming to Tame: Three Steps to Emotional Release
If everything feels "fine" on the outside, but internally it’s not, I want you to try this:
**Admit your truth:** Be honest with yourself and name what is true for you. When you name it, you tame it.
**Share with a safe person:** Find a close friend or partner who can listen without "fixing." You can even say: “I want to share something about me. I don't need you to do anything, just simply listen. I welcome questions to stay curious, but I don't want you to solve anything. I am feeling ____ because ____.”
**Drop the story:** This is easier said than done, and remember there is no "right" way or one way to feel about your experience. It is unique to you.

From Solo Survival to Shared Strength

You don't have to carry the wilderness by yourself. Whether you need a guide to help you unmask or a strategy to keep from being "dropped" by the system, I am here to walk with you.

Ready to build a new blueprint for your motherhood?

Work with me One-on-One: Let's sit with the masks together and listen to what you truly need. Meet the woman within

Holistic Postpartum Planning: Helps you protect your peace and prioritize your recovery, allowing for a transition that feels like a slow, intentional unfolding.

Tap out of the pretending and lean into your truest self and your people. You’ve got this!! Sending you so much love.

In the mess and the magic with you,
Kristen

THE Mask of Motherhood: Why We Suppress Our Truth in Silence