Beyond the wardrobe: What I learned sorting out my children's old clothes

The post about my therapy journey, the concept of growing around grief and accepting polarities in motherhood.

Greetings Wonder Woman,

A quick note before we dive into today’s post.
When I wrote the initial draft of this post last week, I did not like the outcome. I was not able to pinpoint “why?” and “what’s wrong,” so I gave the draft to read to my chief editor, aka my husband (let’s admit something here; many of us have a person they give their draft for scrutiny, and that person is far away from your ideal audience). He pointed out to me that although the information was very valuable to read, it felt to him that I mixed in the article two different things that were not flowing nicely together. He advised me to divide the initial article to two parts - part one (reflection), which relates more to my “expert by experience” hat and part two, that will be concerning some strategies to soothe discussed difficulties (and that part links to my other hat I wear here on this Substack as a CBT therapist).

So, if you are ready to dive into my reflection on adjustment to change, and the difficult ride with the acceptance of your children growing and bringing polarities in motherhood together, fasten your seatbelts!

While unpacking from our 2,040 miles trip through Europe, I was endlessly folding and organizing my children’s clothes and wardrobes. I am sure that every mother at this point feels my pain when you need to take every piece of garment, check if that’s indeed a “clean one,” and fold it again, as the travel suitcases and travel bags are not designed to keep your clothes neat. So I am unfolding/folding all our clothes (imagining Marie Kondo having a heart attack) and, as everything is a mess anyway, I am also “sorting out” my kids' wardrobes - taking away all too small clothes, separating them on what I want to keep, what can be donated, what can be sold. And while doing that, I am realising something - it is the first time when I am not bursting into tears while doing that. And that, naturally for me, makes me wonder - “Why?”. Is that because I am too tired because of the trip? Perhaps, but at the same time, tiredness usually narrows my window of tolerance, so it is easier for me to become taken away by emotions. As the process of going through things is not mentally challenging, I reflect. I scan my body and there is a lack of even the slightest tide of sadness. There is no heaviness in my chest, no tightness in the throat, the river of tears is not pouring down on my cheeks. I am not ruminating and asking myself unanswerable questions. I think something has been healed.

Before last week happened, I was always struggling with accepting the changes and transition in my parenthood journey. One of the main triggering situations was the process of sorting out the wardrobes when my child(ren) were outgrowing their old clothes and outfits. Every time when that process needed to happen, I was avoiding doing it as long as I could. When there was literally no place to store the clothes, I had to face an overwhelming sense of sadness that they are irrevocably older. Their younger, baby/toddler/preschooler self is quickly evaporating. They become bigger, wiser, more independent. That sadness and sense of loss were so strong that I was crying and could not stop. I remember that many times my husband was trying to talk to me, or, unsuccessfully “cheer me up”; the things and points he was trying to make were coming from a good heart, however, I was in a state where I was not able to shift that sadness. The intensity of it was stopping me from seeing things differently. I was crying (and crying) and ruminating on the thought that something has just ended (in the way when we lose something), and over the next few days my emotions naturally settled, to again monumentally arise when triggered by another “sort-up”, birthday, anniversary or milestone achieved.

These reactions were especially intense after having my first son; the first year of his life, I was sharing my time and thoughts between our family and my therapy sessions. The recurring theme that kept coming back during my own therapy at that time was about loss, and ultimately, grief - loss of control, loss of my former self, grieving parts of my childhood. And now, the loss of my sweet little baby. A year in therapy, going back to work, specialising in perinatal mental health were adding to the process of slowly healing and being able to start growing life around these losses:

Tonkin’s (1996) theory of ‘growing around grief’ suggests that the painful feelings remain present, but through new experiences, meeting others and the pursuit of new activities, enjoyment can be achieved.

With having my second son, these emotions were still there - I was still crying when donating his baby clothes, or when we were celebrating his first birthday, but I was able to regulate these feelings, observe them, take a step back from them. They were not overwhelming, stopping me from functioning. My life as a mother has grown, and alongside that, my M-identity has formed and started to solidify, providing some structure, support, wisdom and fundamentals to hold not only my children but also myself.

One of the most helpful things that I discussed with my therapist was the ability to hold together two polarities; accept the status quo and attempt to change at the same time; celebrate the moment of achieving a milestone and find a space for the sadness; hold my children very close and observe them running away; cook healthy dinners and offer them an ice cream; acknowledge that I am doing a great job as a mother, and that I am making mistakes.
The more I accepted myself and my past, the more validation I gave myself that allowed for healing. And with that, the true change was possible.

Photo by Amy Shamblen on Unsplash

Thank you for coming with me to the end of this first part of the article. The next one will be a continuation of this one; however, I will switch the hats - I will take off my personal one and wear the therapist hat, where I will provide you with more facts, information, and “how-to” practice bringing opposites together.

Let me know your thoughts about:

1. What are your unique strategies for navigating the bittersweet emotions tied to your children growing up?

2. How do you balance celebrating parenting milestones while making space for the inevitable sadness that comes with change?

3. Share a moment where you found unexpected joy amidst the challenges of motherhood.

Warm wishes,