From Mythology to Motherhood: My Love Affair with Persephone

After months of chaos, we finally feel like we settling into Italy. I could write endlessly about the comedy of errors that was an international move with a dog, a toddler, and only one adult who unconfidently speaks the language of our new home country, but you’ve heard all of those stories, in one form or another, before. I could put together a list of my favorite toys and toddler hacks for the plane, but you’ve seen those on TikTok. I could even write some pithy essay about the loneliness of motherhood and the crushing weight of being not only the primary parent but the primary partner in charge of managing all major life events, but the internet is full of those. What I am choosing to focus on instead is my intense need to foster a stronger community around me, specifically for military parents, and how a myth I read as a young child changed the way I look at motherhood.

Mythology has always held onto me as if I were Daphne and it Apollo - even as I tried to run from the parts of myself that it’s myths and legends brought to light, somehow the lessons always caught up with me. From wrapping myself in a bedsheet to mimic the togas of the muses in the Hercules Greek chorus; to hiding under the covers with a flashlight devouring the pages of our beautiful, leather bound copy of The Golden Age; to living in Rome with the unshakable sense that I was walking where the gods must have walked. Mythology has been a comfort, a curse, an escape, and a friend.

In May 2020, right before I found out I was pregnant, I was discussing my struggles to conceive with my close friend, Rae. Ben and I had been trying to conceive our first child for less than six months (a short amount of time in the discussion of fertility or struggles to conceive), but with every negative test I felt myself falling further and further into the dark I knew all too well. In my conversation with Rae, they began to share with me the myth of Persephone. I thought I knew everything about her story - the daughter of Demeter and Zeus who was spirited away to the Underworld by Hades himself. The god so desperately coveted Persephone that he stole her from Earth, tricked her into eating the seeds of a pomegranate, and made her his unwilling queen. Little did I know how reductive I was in my view of the woman whose presence was to become my most constant guide through not only motherhood but the cycles of life itself.

I could go into detail about the different interpretations of the myth, but I would rather let those smarter than I am share their incredible views and research with you. My favorite interpretation and essay is linked here.

Here is what resonated most with me: Persephone found something meaningful in darkness. In the Underworld, she found her power - her purpose. She takes on the role of assisting souls in their transition from life to death. In discovering and finally living in her true purpose, she earns her goddess name: Persephone. Prior to this time, she was known only by her maiden name of Kore. In Ancient Greek, this word translates to “maiden” or “daughter.” Prior to finding her true purpose, Persephone was without her true name. She was nothing more than a maiden - a daughter - a girl. She wasn’t an individual. She wasn’t noteworthy. But by discovering her purpose in her darkest moments, she flourished. She chose to embrace rather than hide from the darkness. As I battled what I would later realize was a perinatal onset of postpartum depression, I was struck by the idea that, like Persephone, we don’t need to hide from our own darkness or feel shamed in it but rather find purpose through it.

Whether I realized it or not, Persephone was with me throughout my entire pregnancy. She held my hand as I fumbled around in the pitch black darkness of postpartum depression, guiding me through the transition from maiden to mother, as she has guided countless spirits before me.

Through the lens of both Kore and Persephone, we as parents can discover the power that exists within our own darkness, be it depression, postpartum challenges, parenting struggles, failures, or grief. With her as our guide, we discover that this power is not an evil but rather is something good.

When we come together as a community of parents to support one another, it is as if we are spirits arriving in the underworld being greeted by Persephone. As she beckons us to come nearer, her aura washes over us and begins our transition from the Earth to the Underworld. My hope is that I can begin to build a community and that together we can become that aura - just as Persephone blessed those spirits with tranquility and wisdom as they prepared to move from one phase of life to the next - so can this group prepare us as we shift through each cycle of life, parenting, and personhood.

This year, I have spent a long time reflecting on my struggles to find community in both the military spouse and parent worlds. I have felt like either too much of something or not enough of something else to ever truly belong. The Facebook groups that both military spouses and new moms are always directed towards were filled with drama, catty fights, or the same question asked a thousand times. The on-base resources were either non-existent or I found out about them too late. As I reflected on these things, I had to ask myself what I could do to make these communities stronger, and safer spaces for people to struggle and find support. Hopefully I’ll be able to share more about those plans soon, but until then, I hope that you are able to connect with Persephone’s power in a way that helps you tap into your own.