I traveled and partied a lot before having kids.
After my son was born in 2014, I craved connection with other moms like me.
I've been shamed for how I dress and for traveling and partying.
Before becoming a mother nearly a decade ago, I was a seasoned fashion editor with a wild past and the epitome of a free spirit.
I traveled the world for Fashion Weeks and press trips, guzzling drinks and sharing joints while somehow never missing a deadline. I was very much living "the dream" and proud to be one of the few brown women working in a notoriously white-leaning industry.
It was all fun and games until 2014, when I became pregnant with my son. When I thought my spontaneous life was officially over, I instantly felt isolated and unprepared. I didn't know what to expect, and I wasn't ready to slow down. My body was changing, my hormones were all scrambled up, and I craved support beyond my wonderful husband. I specifically needed to hear from women that everything was going to be OK and that life was, in fact, not over. I craved community, and I couldn't shake the idea that I'd have to create it.
I created a space for creative moms to connect
Diego was born on September 21, 2014. When he was 3 months old, I created my community, Fashion Mamas, which is a supportive space for dynamic and diverse mothers in creative industries. I wanted rebellious mothers, new and OG, to feel less alone by creating progressive content and events that made motherhood more fun.
I wanted to find like-minded friends who were committed to being good mothers while also prioritizing their personal passions. In addition to business-focused talks and resources, we go to Palm Springs and Vegas for girls' trips. We have a Club Mama dance party and music-filled nights out, where moms dust off their hottest outfits to dance with other moms and share stories about their babies, almost always resulting in happy cryfests as we bust out photos of our little ones in the middle of taking selfies and tequila shots.
Moms can contain multitudes, too. And the best part is we're all back home by 9 p.m., because — let's be honest — we may still have some of the stamina of our youth, but the morning after a late night hits very different when a toddler flings open a door to greet you first thing in the morning.
I've been mom-shamed for my lifestyle
Although I wouldn't change my style of motherhood for anything or anyone, I'd be lying if I didn't share that it has come with much mom-shaming.
I'm used to being shamed during my rebel writer days, but, whew, shame from mothers is a whole different type of judgment — especially when you're just trying to make this overwhelming experience more enjoyable.
I've been judged for the way I dress. A footwear brand's post of a picture of me with my boots and my baby received this comment: "Do moms really dress like this while breastfeeding? It screams single mum on the prowl."
Or when I take my members on trips, I'll occasionally receive DMs like, "Aren't you a mom?" or "Where are your kids?!" With their dad, that's where they are. Mind-blowing, I know.
Prioritizing my joy and having responsible fun helps me recharge my battery so I can return to my children as a more energized and enthusiastic mother. For some mothers, that's not an option, and I empathize with them deeply. For other mothers, partying is not their idea of fun, which is fair, and I respect that. But what isn't fair is trashing another mom's interests simply because you can't see yourself taking part in them.
If you don't like my vibe, then, respectfully, just keep it moving. If you do, by all means, join the party — first round's on me.
Read the original article on Insider