Me, erased, or, What was my name again?

Today I sat down in the orthodontist's office with a woman whose daughter is in speech playgroup with the big girl. And of course we recognized each other, hello hello, who are you here with (she was aghast when I said no one, I have orthodontia at 38) and then I opened my mouth and actually said, "Oh, and I'm Ellie's mom, by the way."

I have been erased.

I have stopped being Sarah, Miss Manville, Ms. Gann, Yo Miz G, Snoot, Sac, or any other moniker by which I have traveled in my life. I have been relegated to the nameless parent, the invisible mother, the omnipresent yet invisible authority under which my children may live, but from whom I derive my entire identity.

This is a problem. I used to be Somebody. I was always growing into myself, of course, but I had a name. I wasn't interpreted by my relationship to someone else. Now, that's all I seem to have.

I know this happens to other women, and for the most part they hate it as much as I do. We used to be people, and then we reproduced. We used to have voices....authentic, individual. Now we just have mouthpieces, and they are three years old and still can't tie their own shoes.

The reclaiming of Self is a process that can take a woman years to complete. I don't know where I am in my journey, but I know I can start in one solid place.

My name is Sarah.