Tif Cohen

Blythe Baird in her book, “If My Body Could Speak,” writes

 “I used to find empowerment in labels, Now I feel suffocated by them.”

I felt that in my core. When I was a kid, I wanted to be PRETTY. I wanted to be SMART. I was a WRITER. When I was an adolescent, I proudly wore the labels of WEIRDO, GOTH, and still WRITER. My young adulthood brought on HARD WORKER, PHOTOGRAPHER, AND INDEPENDENT. 

I had my children and I put on the label of MOTHER even though I didn’t have the slightest idea what that meant. So I searched the internet, watched the other MOTHERS at the playground and compared it to what I was doing and it wasn’t anything like what I was doing. Was I doing it all wrong? Or were they?

I started motherhood as a WORKING MOTHER. I would visit the daycare on my lunch breaks instead of eating lunch just to make sure my baby was okay. Just to see him. Just to make sure he knew I was going to come back for him soon. I was the only WORKING MOTHER there on their lunch break. Was I being overbearing? Was I smothering? Was I embarrassing myself?

I became a STAY AT HOME MOTHER and relinquished all needs that did not include my child. “Don’t forget me” my husband said so I didn’t. I was WIFE alongside STAY AT HOME MOTHER. I got the sitter, spent the time with him, and shared interests like a good WIFE. I didn’t forget him. But I forgot me. 

I picked up the camera again and took the label of PHOTOGRAPHER once again. I searched the internet to find what other successful PHOTOGRAPHERS were doing and decided I would do that. It was hollow and empty. I then linked up with local creatives and created some art that I was proud of. I got published several times. I was a PUBLISHED PHOTOGRAPHER. 

STAY AT HOME WIFE MOTHER PUBLISHED PHOTOGRAPHER. That’s a MOMMY PHOTOGRAPHER. But I didn’t want to be like the other MOMMY PHOTOGRAPHERS anymore. I didn’t want their expectations. I wanted my own community. 

I went back to the beginning. I went back to WRITER. It was almost by accident. I sat down to write about something that was burning inside me. The only intention was to stop the burn. I shared it with friends and the first response was “you’re a great WRITER”. I had forgotten. 

I committed to WRITER again. But what kind of writer was I? And who would want to read my writing? And wait – how  can I be WRITER when I am STAY AT HOME MOTHER and WIFE? PAID WRITER would take some time. It’s selfish of this STAY AT HOME MOTHER and WIFE to neglect her family for something that isn’t immediately CONTRIBUTING.

A GOOD MOTHER and a GOOD WIFE wouldn’t be a WRITER without the PAID.

Be GOOD. 

Be PAID.

Be CONTRIBUTING

Be SUFFOCATED.