Before motherhood, you were a whole person. A woman with dreams, curiosities, and a rhythm to your days that was entirely your own. Then everything shifted. Your body
No one quite prepares you for how easy it is to blur into the background of your own life. The transformation can feel so gradual, so expected, that you barely notice when your needs start to slip, when your voice gets quieter, when the parts of you that once felt alive begin to fade beneath the weight of everyone else’s.
And yet, the danger of losing yourself isn’t just emotional fatigue—it’s a quiet unraveling. One that, if left unnoticed, can lead to resentment, burnout, even the kind of internal crisis that sneaks up years down the road and asks:
Where did I go?
You Deserve a Space to Breathe
Your days are full—overflowing, even—with requests, routines, and responsibilities. It’s not just exhaustion you’re carrying. It’s the emotional labor of remembering everything, managing everyone, and being the steady presence others rely on. But while your world may revolve around others, you still belong at the center of your own life. This is the heart of balancing motherhood and family, a dynamic that requires nurturing yourself to give your best to those you love.
We don’t often talk about the slow erosion of self that can happen in motherhood. It’s not dramatic or loud. It’s subtle. You stop doing the things you love. You silence your own needs for the sake of peace or productivity. And eventually, you forget what it even means to feel like you again.
That’s why giving yourself space—mentally, emotionally, spiritually—isn’t just self-care. It’s self-reclamation. It’s saying: I exist. I matter. I’m still here.
You don’t need a crisis to justify coming home to yourself. You only need a moment of truth: the realization that keeping everyone else afloat shouldn’t mean you’re the one quietly sinking.
Self-Care Isn’t Just Bubble Baths (Though Those Are Nice, Too)
And once you begin to carve out even the smallest moments for yourself, you might realize something: that self-care isn’t what you thought it was.
Let’s be real—bubble baths and spa days are lovely, but they’re not the cure for losing a sense of self. Real self-care, in the context of motherhood and self-care, is not just about relaxation. It’s about remembrance.
Real self-care, in the context of motherhood, often starts with a quiet, almost haunting question: Who was I before this? Before the diaper bags and meal preps and the constant vigilance. Before being needed around the clock.
And even more importantly: Who am I now, beyond being “Mom”?
Self-care is reconnecting with the parts of you that existed before the title. It’s not a reward—it’s a lifeline. It’s the act of reclaiming your inner world, piece by piece, not because you’re ungrateful for the life you have, but because you know there’s more to you than what others see.
Sometimes self-care is choosing solitude, even when your to-do list screams for your attention. Other times, it’s daring to dream again—about a career, a creative pursuit, or simply a version of yourself that feels alive.
You’re not trying to go back to who you were before motherhood. That version of you evolved the moment you held your child. But the dreams she had? They’re still breathing underneath the surface, waiting for you to notice.
Six Gentle Ways to Prioritize You
- Return to Yourself in Quiet, Simple Ways</>
Sometimes, what we miss most isn’t sleep or time—it’s ourselves. You might not even notice the loss until you’re snapping at everyone or crying over spilled milk. So start small. Steal moments of silence. These quiet pauses aren’t indulgences—they’re reconnections. They’re the essence of self-care for moms, reminding you that before you were a mother, you were someone with dreams, stillness, and inner rhythms worth honoring.
And yes, sleep is part of this, too. Not because it makes you productive—but because you deserve to feel like yourself again. Advocate for that rest. Take turns with your partner. Shut down the screens earlier. You’re not just recharging—you’re remembering who you are underneath the exhaustion.
And once you start hearing yourself again in the quiet, you can begin tending to yourself in the ways you most need.
- Nourish Your Body and Spirit—Not Just Everyone Else’s
You wouldn’t let your children go unfed, yet it’s easy to let yourself run on fumes. Caring for your body doesn’t need to be complicated—it just needs to be intentional. Add something colorful to your plate. Sit down for a meal instead of multitasking through it. Let food be more than fuel; let it be an offering of love to your body.
And while you’re at it, reclaim something that was once yours. A song you used to sing, a hobby that made time disappear, a passion that never fit into your calendar. When you reignite even a tiny ember of that inner fire, you’re not being frivolous—you’re keeping your identity from vanishing under the weight of everyone else’s needs.
- Let Others In—You Were Never Meant to Do This Alone
We glorify independence in motherhood, but real strength is knowing when to soften. Let your partner do bedtime. Say yes to a friend dropping off dinner. Ask your mom to take the kids for a weekend. These aren’t signs of weakness—they’re signs you’re finally shedding the myth that love looks like self-sacrifice.
Find the people who remind you that you’re not just “Mom.” Join the group chat, send the vulnerable text, laugh with the women who make you feel seen. You don’t have to carry all of this by yourself—and you were never supposed to.
You’re Still in There – And You Still Matter
It’s easy to forget that you didn’t vanish the moment you became a mother. You’re still here. Beneath the routines, the schedules, the daily giving. Beneath the small sacrifices no one sees. You’re still a whole, feeling, dreaming person—with stories that began long before your children arrived, and that deserve to keep unfolding.
When you tend to yourself, you’re not taking away from your family. You’re showing them what it looks like to live fully human. To rest when you’re tired. To ask for help when you’re overwhelmed. To feel joy that’s not dependent on someone else’s needs being met first.
That version of you—who once laughed loudly, chased ambitions, danced in the kitchen without a little one tugging your sleeve—she’s not gone. She’s simply waiting for a moment of permission. And you can be the one to offer it.
If someone you loved came to you feeling burnt out, you’d never tell her to power through. You’d tell her to breathe. To rest. To come back to herself. So why speak to yourself any differently?
Motherhood is not just about raising others—it’s about remembering yourself in the process. It’s about modeling wholeness, not martyrdom. It’s showing your children what self-respect and self-love look like, even when life is messy, loud, and relentlessly busy. You are not just allowed to take up space—you must. Because when you thrive, your family learns that thriving is possible. And that’s the kind of love that lasts.
Because before you became a mother, you were someone—with dreams and all. And that someone still deserves to be seen, nurtured, and loved.
