Who am I?

It’s a question we all ask ourselves daily, if not hourly.

And for those of us born post-2000, in a time where denim on denim was socially acceptable and we convinced our moms to buy us a $40 sequin puppy shirt from Justice (my goodness why did you guys say yes?), this question seems to have no answer.

Perhaps it’s because we think we have no escape or solitude to ponder the answer. Our phones follow us home, magnetized to our hands as we fall asleep and glued to our eyes when we wake.

Culture remains our closest confidant. Instagram, TikTok and even Pinterest are just tools of comparison – that pesky thief of joy.

When I tell people I’m the mom of four teens at once, inevitably I get responses ranging from wide-eyed, meme-worthy head tilts to frank expressions of sympathy and prayers. The most common reaction I hear is joking.