A Letter to my Children, from your Introverted Mother.

Dear, My  Children.

An introvert is a person who feels more comfortable when they are on their own. They charge their batteries by spending time alone and they feel happier in quiet places, living life at their own pace.

A child is a person who tends to surround themselves with chaos. They charge their batteries when sleeping and then wake up full of extreme energy. They feel happier hanging off Mummy's leg, making as much noise as possible and living life at a fast pace.

Mummy is an introvert. You see my problem.

It didn't start when I had you. It actually started before you were even a thought in my mind - it has been part of who I am since the day I was born. I was the child who would ask if I could go to my friend's house while shaking my head frantically at Granny (my Mum, of course), whispering 'say no!' while covering the mouthpiece of the phone. I was the child who could spend an entire afternoon riding her bike around in a car park, content with pretend conversations in her head rather than the hassle of having to pretend I knew the right way to have conversations with other people. It was never personal, and it isn't personal with you: I'm just not good at being around people.

When I am around people, I feel like a superhero who is getting weaker and weaker. My energy drains and I need to shut myself in a quiet room and recharge before I am able to have the full extent of my powers. As my powers get lower, my mood does too: I have a short temper, I snap over little things and I end up curled into a ball sobbing. I know that must sound familiar to you, and that breaks my heart.

I spent a lot of time thinking that it meant I wasn't a good Mummy. I could handle you when you wanted to curl up beside me and watch a film. I could handle you when you wanted me to plait your hair or paint your nails. I could handle you when the two of you got along. But then you were loud or you bickered. Layer upon layer of noise sapped me of my energy. You clambered over me when I wanted not to be touched, and then the dog jumped on me, and then the cat, and then you got right up in my face and made a loud noise because you thought it'd be funny - it was too much.  I told myself that my inability to handle you when you were loud and obnoxious meant that I was a bad mother. I joked with your childminder that I was a bad mother because I was happy for you to be with her while I spent a day at home enjoying the silence, because it wasn't just overactivity that I found myself unable to cope with, but sometimes even being around you and your energetic vibe.

Sometimes Mummy needs to sit alone in the bedroom because the air is colder in there, and the room is darker, and when I am in that environment I physically feel my tension fizzling away. That doesn't mean I don't love you. Sometimes Mummy takes five minutes to lock herself in the bathroom, squatting in the corner of the room and holding the lock so you can't turn it from the outside. That doesn't mean I don't love you. Sometimes Mummy needs to take a deep breath before opening a door to prepare herself for you because you're a bundle of energy and noise and I'm not very good at processing those things at the rate that you produce them. That doesn't mean I don't love you. Sometimes Mummy wants to rush you off to school, snaps at you to just give me five seconds of silence, runs from you when you touch her: none of those things mean I don't love you. They are just part of who I am and, unfortunately for you, have become part of how I mother.

I have gone to counselling to try and control these aspects of myself but ultimately, being an introvert is not a mental health problem. I'm not a bad Mum, I'm just a different Mum. I'm the only Mum I can be. 

A Mummy is a person who loves her child unconditionally. She wants her children to feel happy and loved. She wants to teach them to be good grown-ups. She wants to spend every second of every day soaking up the love of her child.

Mummy is an introvert. You see my problem.

Let's make a deal. I will manoeuvre myself around your lives, ensuring I get that precious silence that is vital to me in order to be a good Mum. I will arrange our lives so that there is minimal stress, as little interaction with third parties at one time as possible, and I will recognise my triggers and take breaks when I need to. And you just be you. Because you're awesome at it.

All my love, Mummy