Okay, this is probably stupid, and not a big deal compared to what other people go through, but I just need to get it out there. Anyone else ever feel like they’re living two totally different lives, and the real one is just… quietly screaming in the background? Because that’s me right now. I’m a stay-at-home parent, which I guess is the dream for a lot of people, and honestly, I love my kid more than anything. But before this, before I became "Mom," I actually had a job. A decent job, for someone my age. I was in advertising. And I was GOOD at it. Like, I’d come up with these taglines for really expensive things – watches, bags, even some super high-end furniture – and people would eat it up. My boss would be like, "Brilliant! Exactly what we need!" and I’d feel this weird rush. The thing is, even back then, I knew. I knew we were just selling people stuff they didn’t need. Stuff that was probably made in a way that wasn’t great for the planet, or by people not getting paid enough. I’d be sitting there in meetings, talking about "aspirational lifestyles" and "curated experiences" and inside, I’d be thinking, *This is all just shiny garbage.* I’d come home and just feel… dirty. Like I was part of the problem. But then the paycheck would hit, and I’d buy something nice for myself, or save up, and it would quiet that voice down a bit. It was easy to just push it away, you know? Now, being home all the time, just me and the baby – it’s a lot quieter. And that voice? It’s gotten REALLY loud. I’m spending my days doing laundry, making purees, singing nursery rhymes… and then sometimes, late at night, I’ll scroll through Instagram and see ads for the exact kind of stuff I used to create. "Luxury that lasts," "Invest in your comfort." And I just see through all of it. I see the layers of spin, the careful wording designed to make you feel like buying something is a moral choice, or a way to show you care. And it just makes me feel so… guilty. Like I contributed to this whole mess, and now I’m stuck in it, watching from the sidelines. It’s just weird, sitting here, surrounded by all the stuff we’ve accumulated for the baby – plastic toys, clothes that will be outgrown in a month – and remembering how I used to craft words that convinced people they NEEDED a five-thousand-dollar handbag. How do you go from being an active participant in something you secretly hated, to being totally out of it, but still feeling the echo of what you did? Am I the only one who feels this disconnect? Like, what even is my identity anymore? I'm not that ad person, but I'm also not *just* a parent. And the part of me that sees through all the BS, the part that thinks we’re just destroying everything for material stuff… where does that even fit in? It’s just… a lot. And sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever feel like a whole person again, or if I’m just always going to be half one thing, half another, and neither one feels quite right.