No one ever told me what life as a stay-at-home mom would really feel like. Growing up in the South, the picture of womanhood seemed so simple: marry, have children, and create a home. As a little girl, I dreamed of this life. And while I am deeply grateful to live it, I’ve also discovered that it can be quietly, profoundly lonely.
I don’t say that to complain, but to whisper to another woman who might need to hear it: you are more than a wife and mother. You are extraordinary all on your own. That truth is what nudged me to start writing here… to find my way out of the stuck places and, hopefully, offer a small place of rest for others to do the same.
Motherhood, as beautiful as it is, isn’t effortless. Why I ever thought carrying, birthing, and raising children would be simple, I’ll never know. Perhaps because the women before me made it look easy. But the truth is, it’s a delicate balancing act…learning to give so much of yourself while still holding on to who you are. Some days, it feels like a quiet kind of survival.
Thrift stores became a happy escape.
That may sound funny… but thrifting became a refuge… a place to breathe, to step outside the to-do lists, and the endless days of dishes and diapers. When my boys were small, I’d bring them along, make a cozy spot in the buggy, and wait for a new supply of miscellaneous items to be wheeled out from the back. I’d lose myself in the search: sifting through racks of clothing, shelves of books, dishes stacked haphazardly, and paintings leaning against one another.
Every item seemed to hold a story. Who owned this before me? Why did they let it go? Where might it belong in my home? In some small way, thrifting was a chance to see the world through someone else’s eyes.
I’m notoriously known for making a quick stop into local thrift stores as I’m passing through different cities and towns. I’ve been at this since 2000… long before it was trendy, long before a song made it cool. Each stop at a thrift store still fills my cup, preferably a vintage French Limoges teacup found for just a dollar! Be still my heart!
These finds tell the story of my life. I can point to every item in our house and say exactly where it came from… and how much I paid, which is always my husband’s favorite detail: “It was very inexpensive.” Sure, we’ve had a few classic arguments along the way. Do we really need another chair? And you’re telling me we have to drive all the way there for this piece of furniture?!
These finds have carried me through different seasons of life. They’ve been part of conversations, curiosity, and memories, and, of course, they have provided the most beautiful dinnerware for get-togethers. Over time, these little treasures have quietly become a part of who I am.
As a woman on a journey of becoming unstuck, I find pride in walking this journey… mostly in vintage clothing. There’s comfort to knowing that these finds have traveled paths before me, carrying stories long before I arrived, and maybe, just maybe, making it through to the other side.
With Love,
Erica
Salty Blonde Living
