You don't know me, but I am you.

This is a guest post by StitchSista.

Soon I will be 40, but inside I am only 19.

I am a mother, a daughter, a wife, a friend. Just like you.

Once upon a time I felt beautiful. Nowadays, on the outside I'm practically invisible. On the inside, I grow stronger daily.

Sometimes I lean left with my homebirthing, hippy la la ways. I breastfed all my babies until at least two or three. And even for awhile two at the same time.

I also love Aussie Rules passionately and think the boats (but not the people) should be stopped.

Classical music can move me to tears with its beauty, but I listened to Tool while birthing my son.

I've kissed both men and women in my life. I don't believe sexuality is a choice but rather a spectrum.

I love real food, and that includes animal flesh. But I would cry to see an animal hurt cruelly or needlessly.

A feminist and a humanist I will defend a womans right to do whatever she wants with her body, even if there is a baby inside.

Fiercely loyal I have ridiculously high expectations of people, especially myself. I fail daily.

I am an atheist who believes Jesus was a man who lived. If there is a god he or she is already in me.

The more I learn, the less I know. And I wish my thoughts were more original.

I believe that people are inherently good, and the bad ones weren't loved on enough. (Although truthfully, the brain is all chemistry and electricity and I can't be sure it's not faulty wiring.)

Every day right now is a slog, to get started, to keep going. But I have three children, so do it I must.

I love myself. I hate myself. Repeat.

One thing I know for sure is that I am not one thing, one opinion, one outfit, one tweet. Myriad thoughts and experiences make me, me. I bet you're the same.

So I don't know you, and you still don't really know me. But we are human, and so in the ways that count we are the same. I wonder how much better the world would be if we remembered that.