Now that I am a mother, I sometimes think back to that time in my life when things were carefree and easy — when my spunky side was front and center.

I fell in love with a man who has always been comfortable being himself. I think that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him so quickly. I, on the other hand, haven’t always been able to say the same about myself. I think back to the “old” me who would change her clothes and sometimes even her personality for someone else.

The parts of Me I miss most are not parts I can see in a rearview mirror or parts some stranger can see in the baby food aisle at the grocery store. Me is not some shiny exterior, lacquered and gleaming.

Music, dancing, and laughter. These are some of my earliest memories of growing up in a Puerto Rican, Jamaican, Chinese household. My family is a mix of cultures, woven together like a tapestry with colorful, contrasting designs that somehow fit perfectly together.

The woman I strive to be, the most joyful and powerful version of myself, has always been there, even when she was buried so deep under pain and desperation that I did not know her. She is who I discover as I learn to truly trust myself. A deeper self-love celebrates the ways I am becoming her.

Sitting down at the table, warm mug in hand, I touch the keyboard. The screen of my computer comes to life, a blank page ready and waiting to be filled. It’s only taken five years of motherhood, but I feel like myself here.

I finally cried and let go of the dream of “maybe someday” with him. And the weight began to lessen.

How to reclaim your identity after your marriage ends.