Can I tell you a secret? The first time I wrote my “About Me” page, I wrote out my whole life like a timeline. Born here. Grew up there. Got married. Had babies. Took this job. Did that thing. Technically, it was all true. But it was also... BOOOORRRRING. And more importantly, it didn’t really tell you anything about me.

 

So I started over... and here it goes.

 

My name is Jennifer Younes. I’m a recovering people-pleaser, a loving wife, a mother of three, and I can say this now with my whole heart: I love being a mama.

 

But I didn’t always feel that way. When I first became a mom, I was anxious, overwhelmed, and trying so hard to do everything “right.” My husband, Feras, and I were the first among our friends and siblings to have babies, so there wasn’t really anyone ahead of us saying, “Here’s what this looks like.”

 

So, I listened to everyone. Family. Friends. Other moms. Doctors. Books. Society.

I wanted to be a good mom so badly that I started paying more attention to what everyone else thought motherhood should look like than to what I actually needed.

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Our first baby, Amir, was thankfully pretty easygoing, and from the outside, I probably looked like I had it handled. Inside? Not so much. And then, six months later, we found out I was pregnant again. Our daughter, Mina, was born when Amir was only 15 months old. Two babies under two. That was when the wheels really started coming off.

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I really tried to keep going. I kept smiling. I kept taking care of everyone.

And in every quiet moment I had, I cleaned something, cooked something, folded something, planned something, or worried about something. There was always something to do. And somehow, I stopped being one of the people on my own list.

I stopped paying attention to how I felt. I stopped thinking about what I wanted.

I stopped doing things just because they made me happy. 

 

I became very good at being the mom I thought everyone needed me to be.

And little by little... I disappeared inside the role. By the time our third baby, Zain, came along, I was exhausted in every way. And what made it even more confusing was that I had support. I had a loving husband. I had parents and sisters who helped. I wasn’t doing motherhood completely alone. But I still felt lost.

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Then, in 2016, I had one of those moments that changes something in you.

On a snowy morning, Amir and I were walking to school when a semi-truck lost control and nearly hit us. We were okay, thank goodness, but I wasn’t the same after that. It shook me enough to make me look at my life differently. I had spent years surviving, pushing through, and telling myself I was fine. And I realized I didn’t want to keep living that way.

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So I started asking for help - real help. Like Therapy. Medication. A naturopath. Changes to the way I was eating and taking care of my body. I worked on my health and began making changes that helped me slowly feel more like myself again.

 

Eventually, I even took a part-time job. Not because I needed the paycheck - because I needed something that was mine. I needed to walk into a room where no one called me Mom. I needed to remember that there was still a Jennifer in there.

And once I started finding little pieces of myself again, I wanted to understand her better.