Based on a selfie taken in 2021 whilst holding my newborn son. There aren’t many photos of me during this time. I was really struggling mentally to reconcile my old self with my new role as a mother. The two pieces weren’t an easy fit. From issues with breastfeeding, lockdown isolation, to the ever present judgement motherhood attracts, my entire sense of self was compromised. The biggest question on my mind was why doesn’t this feel amazing? I wanted to hide. I felt trapped by the expectations of how I was expected to use my body. That dressing gown. I was always in it. It was like some sort of weird fluffy armour that separated my outward expressions with how was feeling inside, and I was desperate to stop feeling that way and actually start enjoying motherhood instead of being a bystander to it, confused and conflicted because all the while, I knew how much I loved my son, despite not loving motherhood. So I tried to get over myself by pulling a ridiculous face, whilst Bo napped. Rediscovering my art was the path back to my self. This was my second time using oil paint.