No one told me that motherhood is lonely. No one prepared me for the seclusion. No one prepared me for the heavy grief that I would carry from losing friends, or from family not checking in. No one prepared me for the lack of a village, or the absence of a community to lean into when things get hard.

No one prepared me for the realities of motherhood.

No one prepared me for being completely stripped of my old self and taking up a new identity. No one prepared me for the limited adult interaction and the toll that would take on my mental health. No one prepared me for the struggles with postpartum—or the overwhelming emotions.

No one prepared me for the realities of motherhood.

Related: Here the truth, mama—we never stop needing our village

No one prepared me for how real the loneliness is—and how quickly it sets in. No one prepared me for how new motherhood sweeps you off your feet and places you in the midst of the unknown, leaving you siloed and set apart. Leaving you a foreigner in the freshness of it all. No one prepared me for how much I would suffer from the isolation.

No one prepared me for the realities of motherhood.

No one prepared me for the silence that would fill me, even amidst the baby screams and coos and giggles. No one prepared me for how a heart filled with so much love could, at the same time, throb from extreme loneliness. No one prepared me for how much I would yearn for more when becoming a mother was everything I had ever wanted.

No one prepared me for the realities of motherhood.

I wish that maternal loneliness wasn’t so resounding amongst mothers.

I thought that I would have more support, beyond the loads of comments under a photo of my pregnant belly or my newborn baby.

I thought that the village would be there, and that I wouldn't have to search for it or fight for it or build it all on my own.

I thought that everything would be seamless and all that I could have imagined—and more.

I thought that it would all be soft and full of awe—until I was met with the realities of motherhood.

Related: In the absence of a village, build your own

You see, the reality of motherhood is that maternal loneliness is real. And it affects mothers everywhere who hold onto forlorn hope of a world where moms are more supported.

I wish that it could be different. I wish that maternal loneliness wasn’t so resounding amongst mothers. I wish that we all felt seen and supported and validated and heard. I wish that we all had communities to lean into and depend on. People to guide us.

Related: To the mother who feels lonely right now—it won’t be like this forever

I wish that those who have been here before would offer more wisdom unto new mothers, or even an understanding ear and an open mind. I just wish that the realities of motherhood didn’t have anything to do with loneliness. That even in unbecoming, our becoming would be full of light and love and community. That we would receive the utmost support—because that’s what mothers need.

I wish that feeling isolated as a mom wasn't common. I wish that more people would talk openly about the loneliness, but in the same breath, offer ways to combat the isolation. Because for mothers' sake, we need a change. We need joy. We need the fullness and contentment of community. We need each other.

So to the mama in the midst of loneliness, who feels like the lingering weight of solitude will never come to an end, you are not alone. I see you. I hear you. I am you. And for all of us, I hope that one day it will get better.