Don’t Call it a Comeback: A Note from the Editor
By Jordan Sapir
In the face of this horrible pandemic, parents worldwide face unimaginable challenges. Separated from extended family, managing households while homeschooling, safeguarding their families, all whilst maintaining some sense of normalcy in the face of an imminent fear of the unknown. Along with those difficulties mothers encounter the added burden of, well, motherhood. Motherhood is irrefutably an incredible blessing. This is the obligatory statement, decided by the patriarchy, which any discerning comment about the difficulties of the modern day mother must prompt.
Women are not only expected to glamorize and novelize their birth stories (love at first sight) after enduring hours of labor; we are expected to embellish motherhood in the face of all adversity. Despite our endless admiration and devotion as mothers, we are asked to glamorize our unimaginable painstakingly exhausting roles. Cue the Insta moms. Apparently, as the world embarks on a catastrophe, we moms should run our businesses from home, work from home, home-school from home, cultivate our own wild yeast from home, and all the while be funny, entertaining, gorgeous– yet not too confident, sexy, sweaty or serious at mommying. Smiling while branding, whilst at home.
It’s all reminiscent of my induction into motherhood. I was lost. I was incredibly guilt-ridden. I was painstakingly misinformed. I was softened by a sudden uncontrollable vulnerability. Isolation and loneliness consumed me. I felt oppressed. Worst of all, I felt like I had no one to talk to. Most mothers I encountered were sleep-deprived, hormonal, exhausted, and barely functioned themselves. I was led to believe that it wasn’t okay to discuss my mental distress or feelings of despondency.
It took ages for me to realize that I needed help and to ask for it. At some point, I started to galvanize mothers to fitness and a healthy lifestyle, driven by a pure desire to do more than meet for coffee and discuss dirty diapers.
I dedicated myself to my baby and formed an organization that was based on helping mothers find their way in motherhood. Über Moms was actually birthed from my incredible desire to feel useful and valued. That’s the hypocrisy of being a mother. We are summoned to an infinite call of duty, which often yields fear, alienation, and heartache. There is bountiful love, sure. We have an immense amount of love coming our way, but society says that should be enough. All the mixed emotions and messages lead to a boundless amount of mental distress and we’re not even allowed to talk about it. We are the Hollywood stuntmen of parenthood, hiding in the background as our male counterparts take the lead. What’s more, if we dare to discuss the inequalities and social injustice, we are deemed as ungrateful and entitled.
We know that motherhood is great. In that greatness we are allowed to mourn the loss of our former selves, to feel lonely and misguided. When we are expected to have the answer to everything and an endless supply of endorphins, we are setting ourselves up for severe mental anguish.
I was lucky. I was lucky that I was able to find a passion project to dedicate myself to.
Über Moms is what helped me emerge from a very dark place. A place I thought I would remain. It came in the form of the realisation that I must matter to someone other than my children, who couldn’t verbalize how much I meant to them. I felt worthless, ashamed, and consumed with guilt. I needed help and was afraid to get it. What I did was something that I learned from endurance sports: I challenged myself by setting goals, creating new habits, changing my mindset and focusing on the finish line. I continue to face adversity as a mother in a foreign country, but I have sought help, found meaning, and still pursue my dreams as a mother. Not every woman is that fortunate.
We are incredibly resilient. We are also incredibly fragile. Both are permissible. After I hit rock bottom – alone – I clawed my way out. I used my love for sports, a healthy lifestyle, and community to start a grassroots movement in an attempt to empower mothers to do the same, without shying away from a helping hand.
This organization helped me feel whole again; centered, after a long streak of feeling off balance and full of despair. Immersing myself in a cause that I feel strongly for is my calling and gives me a reason to try and recommit everyday for my family, my children, myself, and for mothers who need to hear from someone other than their children that they matter.
We do. We do matter. We need to remember and to be reminded of that, especially in the times of Covid-19.
I have and will continue to use this platform to show mothers my mistakes, my imperfections, my fumbles, my trials and tribulations, and my ability as an athlete and a mother to persevere each and every day. I won’t call it a comeback. I’ve been here for years.
There’s something at the end of this rainbow that I’m fighting for and I’m going to give every little bit to get to it. Michael Jordan, Last Dance
Jordan Sapir, mother of two glitter-laden girls, 2 and 5, studied Journalism and International Political Science in NYC, a place she once called home. She can slaughter five languages fluently. She has worked in a newsroom or two, walked a catwalk or three, and is all for an impromptu adventure. Having traded in her Prada for pretzels, the founder of Über Moms lives in Munich, where she is a stay at home mom and studying to become a certified nutritionist. She is a mommy on a mission and wants to help fellow mothers raise healthy happy families, and beat a PR here and there.