The Deafening Sound of Silence

When the Dust Settles and It’s Just You – Reconnecting with Your Dreams

The house is quiet.

Too quiet.

The sound of my own steps bounces off walls that used to hum with laughter, arguments, and homework chaos. For years, my whole identity was wrapped up in one word: Mom. Now, without a child at my side, I barely recognized myself.

I’d spent nearly two decades pouring every ounce of love, energy, and purpose into raising him. My own dreams, the little sparks of ambition I once carried, had been tucked away, safely stored like forgotten treasures in the attic.

In that deafening silence, I realized that the person I had spent so long caring for wasn’t the one who needed me most anymore. It was me.

For Years, I Was Just “Mom”

It wasn’t just a role; it became the very definition of who I was. Like many, I dreamed of one day owning my own business and living a life that felt full, not necessarily millionaire-level, although that would be nice, but deeply fulfilling. I wanted to wake up excited about MY life, to keep learning, and to help others along the way.

What I didn’t realize during that time was that I had completely lost sight of who I was… as my own person, an individual.

It’s easy, isn’t it? When there’s a child in the house… you sacrifice, you push through, you become a quiet superhero who does whatever it takes to provide, protect, and pour into that little life. Your needs move to the background, then to the basement, then eventually vanish altogether. You show up in every storm, every milestone, every mess, because there’s no way you’d let your baby face it alone.

I was a force. A shield. A constant.

But what happens when they leave?

When the Question Changes

After my son left home, I was introducing myself to someone and froze. After I told them my name, I had nothing else to add. I wasn’t talking to my son’s teacher or ball coach, this person wouldn’t even know who my son was at that point.

It was hard to remember who I was before I became a mother. Back in high school, I had a very specific dream: to be an 11th-grade Trigonometry teacher. I loved numbers and angles, but more than that, I loved the idea of having a desk, grading papers, taking attendance, and doing a lot of writing.

When I was a child, before I knew how to write, I would pretend-sign paperwork, making lots of dramatic squiggly lines and ending with a loud “DOT DOT DOT,” so that everyone would know I was signing something important. I wanted to make my pen mark on the world, even way back then.

Life’s Left Turn

Life had a different plan for me. College wasn’t my next step. Instead, I got pregnant with my son.

Let me tell you, I loved being an active mother. Every talk, every cry, every shared moment, that’s the kind of stuff I’ll carry forever. Knowing I’d be his mom changed my life for the better before I ever met him.

Here’s the thing about putting yourself on pause: when the reason for the pause moves on, you’re left with empty space.

Slippery Slopes & Second Chances

When my son started driving, he gained a new kind of freedom… and so did I. My freedom, however, led me down some dark paths. Things got ugly, fast. I’ve always said that I’d rather die than have my son lose the respect he had for me, and there were moments when my choices made me think I’d lost that. It was a hard road, one of many… mainly because I seem to prefer the scenic (and rocky) routes in life.

We’re in a good place now though. A really good place.

Learning to Stand Alone

After my son moved away, I made other major life changes. Things didn’t go perfectly and I’m thankful that they didn’t, because if they had, I wouldn’t have learned half the lessons I carry today.

This road I’m currently on has been different. For the first time in my life, I’ve had only myself to rely on. No family nearby. No old friends to lean on. No little one to hide behind.

One day, my son and I were having lunch and got on the conversation about something I had been needing to do. I started to explain to him, with tears rolling down my face, that back when I was his mom, it was so much easier to stand up and do whatever I needed to do because it was for him. My son, who I’ve always said is way wiser than I’ve ever been, gave me some wisdom I’ll never forget:

“Ma,” he said gently, “you’re still my ma. But now, you’ve got to learn to love YOU the way you’ve always loved me.”

Whew.

That stopped me cold because I knew he was right. I had given him every drop of my love and somewhere in all that giving, I’d forgotten how to care for myself. I had forgotten who I was… beyond “Mom.”

So that’s where my deepest dream lies now, and I’m learning to love myself unconditionally, at least as much as I love my son. To find peace and joy, even when people disagree with my path or think less of me for walking it.

Dreaming Again

So here I am, dusting off those old dreams and living them in real time, imperfectly and honestly, right here… writing.

It hasn’t been easy, especially since I want to make people proud of me. But I decided if that jeopardizes my path or my peace, it’s not worth it.

So it’s just me with a pen and some paper, rediscovering who I even am and falling in love with me for the first time.



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This story is also published on Medium.