The Haunted Mirror

In the fog of motherhood, many of us have looked in the mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back. This month’s story is for her. For the parts of us that feel haunted, lost, or hidden. You are not alone in that reflection.

There are moments in early motherhood and postpartum that feel less like a rite of passage and more like a haunting. Not the kind with creaking doors or flickering lights, but the kind where you find yourself staring into the mirror and barely recognizing the person staring back.

You used to know her. She had energy, plans, ambitions. She may have loved dressing up, going out, feeling like herself. And now? She’s standing there with her hair matted from dry shampoo, eyes hollow from nights broken into two-hour feeding shifts. There’s a smudge of baby spit-up on her shirt, a breast pad hanging out from the edge of her bra, and something deeper in her eyes. An exhaustion not just of the body, but of the soul.

And you wonder… Is she gone?

It’s a disorienting grief. This slow fading of the “before” version of you. No one warned you that postpartum might feel like an identity eclipse. That you’d lose your footing, not just in the world, but inside your own skin. That you might look in the mirror and see someone who feels like a ghost of your former self.

But let’s name the truth: You’re not a ghost. You’re still here. Just evolving.

The haunting isn’t about loss. It’s about the quiet arrival of a new version of you. One who is learning to live in a body that has been both a battleground and a cradle. One who is carrying the invisible weight of feeding schedules, intrusive thoughts, unspoken rage, overflowing love, and all the contradictions in between.

You’re still her. And you’re also becoming more.

Strength in this season doesn’t always look like glowing selfies or Pinterest-worthy nursery pics. Sometimes it looks like crying in your cold coffee or getting through the day on frozen waffles and sheer will. Sometimes it looks like finally saying out loud: “I’m not okay, and I need help.”

And that’s not weakness. That’s not failure.

That’s courage. That’s transformation.

In the haunted mirror, what you’re really seeing isn’t a woman who’s lost herself. You’re seeing a woman who is in the process of rebuilding herself, piece by tender, messy, beautiful piece.

She is not broken.

She is becoming.