It takes a village to raise a mama.

We’ve all heard the age-old saying that it takes a village to raise a child. For obvious reasons, this statement has been largely undisputed. But it has become very clear to me that this statement also rings true for mamas.

Motherhood is not easy. I don’t care how awesome you are — being a mama is hard. And we can’t do it alone.

Not only can it be exhausting running on very little to no sleep, but the world is constantly trying to remind you about how you’re not doing it right and that you’re definitely not doing enough. “Mommy Shaming” has become the destructive norm in our culture, and it’s leading to self-doubt, anxiety, and depression in a population of women that are in desperate need of support, camaraderie, and love. Therein lies the need for every mama to be living within a village.

I love my village. I am a strong believer that I would not be half the mama that I am today without my village. When post-partum hormones were kicking in and I felt overwhelmed with being a first-time mama, my village came over and hung out with me for hours upon hours without complaining. When I needed ideas for what to feed my baby because my diet mainly consisted of burgers, pizza, and ice cream prior to becoming a mama, my village was always just a quick text away. When I finally accepted the fact that I could probably leave my 4-month old for 30 minutes while my husband and I spent a short little “date” away at the grocery store, my village people came over while my baby napped, and responded to all 83 text messages that I sent while we were away. When I needed a last-minute tried and true Instant Pot recipe because I hadn’t cooked dinner in several days and I didn’t have it in my heart to watch my husband pop yet another frozen pizza in the oven after a hard day of work (sorry dear), my village stepped up to the plate. When I got overly ambitious about planning a “laid-back first birthday party extravaganza” (which, by definition, is not actually a thing, by the way), my village was there to fill in the gaps and show me grace as I tried to play the unfamiliar and uncomfortable role of “hostess.”

I love my village. And my village loves me.
You see, my village knows me. The good, the bad, the unreasonable. And yet they love me anyway. Each person in my village has been hand-picked by God before time, and I have no doubt in my mind that this is true. Where I fall short, where I am weak, where I have fear, where I have shortcomings, my village rises up and fills all the gaps. Not just in my role as a mama, but as a whole human being.

We all need a village. Find a village. Join a village. Be part of my village.
Let’s be village people together.