Disney. The whole fam.

Someone offered to take a family photo and I did what I always do, handed over the camera and started directing.
“No bunny ears.” “Get closer.” “Smile normally”
We came home with hundreds of photos from that trip.
I am in almost none of them.

And I wish I could say Disney was the exception.
It wasn’t.

Christmas mornings. Kids tearing into presents I spent months finding and I am not in those photos.
Birthday cakes I baked from scratch.
Holiday tables I set at midnight so the morning would feel magical.
Camping trips I reserved, planned, packed for …
I am not in those photos either.
I was behind every single moment.
And behind the camera for all of it.

Here’s what that looks like after twenty years:
Scroll back through my children’s entire childhood and you will find a woman who was everywhere, who appears almost nowhere.

Not because she was absent.

Because she was so busy making sure everyone else was in the frame that she forgot she was part of the story.
I carried eight kids. I carried the groceries and the schedules and the emotional weight of a full, loud, beautiful life.
The one thing I didn’t carry?
Myself.

And I didn’t even notice I’d disappeared until I looked back and saw the gap.
That gap has a name. It’s not laziness. It’s not vanity. It’s what happens when a woman spends decades making sure everyone else is seen and slowly stops believing she deserves to be.
This is what I work on with every woman in Alphamomma.

Not just the body. The disappearing.
Get back in the frame.
Not when you’ve lost the weight. Not when things calm down. Not when you feel ready.
Now. As you are. Proof that you were here, alive, strong, present, the reason any of it happened.
Your kids are going to scroll back through their childhood one day.
Make sure they find you there.

If this hit you
Go take a photo today. Doesn’t matter what you look like. Doesn’t matter where you are.
Just be in it.
And send it to me. I mean that. I want to see you in it. I want to celebrate the fact that you showed up. That you stopped stepping aside. That you decided the story needed you in it.