Motherhood may change everything, but it shouldn’t erase you. A heart-to-heart on staying connected to your identity, passions, and peace while raising a family in a world that keeps asking for more.
My mom didn’t plan to be a single mother in her 40s, just two months after giving birth to my youngest sister. No woman does.
But life doesn’t wait for your permission to change. Sometimes, it just drops the plot twist like a TV show you weren’t ready to binge-watch.
I was 14. Old enough to understand when things shifted, but too young to process the gravity of it all. My dad—who had been the pillar of our home, the financial engine, the man with all the answers—died. And just like that, our family flipped inside out. My mom, who’d built her life around him, became the captain of a ship in the middle of a storm she didn’t ask to sail.
And let me tell you… she had no map, no compass—just a newborn in her arms and two kids watching her every move.
She was born to be someone’s wife, but she became something more—she became our world.
When Motherhood Meets Identity Crisis
I think about my mom a lot when I see women I love disappearing under their roles. Wife. Mother. Provider. Chauffeur. Short-order cook. Human Google Calendar. These aren’t just hats—they’re entire costumes. And slowly, beneath all the characters you play, you forget what your actual face looks like.
You used to be a girl with dreams and a Spotify playlist that didn’t include Baby Shark. You had that thing you loved—painting, yoga, reading books with steamy titles you’d never admit out loud. You had a sense of humor, not just a sense of urgency.
But motherhood, especially when you’re doing it alone—or feel like you’re doing it alone—has a way of swallowing you whole.
I get it. You chose love, or maybe love chose you. And now, you’re raising tiny humans while trying to remember if you even drank water today.
(And if you did, did you pee yet? No? Girl. Go.)
The Superwoman Illusion
Here’s the wild truth… there is no such thing as balance. Anyone who tells you they “balance everything perfectly” is either lying, selling something, or about to have a nervous breakdown in the frozen peas aisle at Trader Joe’s.
You don’t need to do it all. You’re already doing enough.
Let me say that louder for the sleep-deprived mama reading this at 1 a.m. YOU. ARE. ENOUGH.
Single mothers, co-parenting mamas, stay-at-home warriors, grandmas raising babies, stepmoms navigating awkward teenage silences, and moms of chosen families—you are superheroes.
NO CAPE REQUIRED.
You’re doing algebra at the dining table while reheating leftovers. You’re hiding in the bathroom just to cry in peace. You’re choosing your kids even when you feel like no one’s choosing you.
That’s a strength. That’s magic. That’s motherhood.
Let’s Talk About Her—The Woman Behind the Mom
Somewhere between “What’s for dinner?” and “Where’s my left shoe?”, there’s you.
And I want to find her again.
Not just because you deserve it—but because your kids deserve to see her. They need to know that women aren’t just caretakers. We’re also creators. Dreamers. Thinkers. Messy, beautiful humans who don’t disappear just because a new title came along.
You don’t have to burn your life down and escape to Hawaii to find yourself (though if you can, please take me). You just need to remember that you still exist outside the demands of motherhood.
Here’s how I’ve seen women do that—starting with my mom:
- Make Time for “Tiny You” Moments
My mom started singing again. Not on a stage or anything glamorous—just while doing the laundry or cooking rice. But her voice came back, and so did the sparkle.
Maybe for you, it’s journaling for five minutes. Maybe it’s dancing in the kitchen to 90s R&B. Maybe it’s watching trash TV guilt-free. Give yourself a tiny “you” moment every day. Even if it’s just one deep breath in the car before picking up the kids.
- Say Yes to Help. No, Seriously.
You are not weak for needing help. You are wise.
Ask your sister. Ask your neighbor. Ask your kid’s friend’s mom who you secretly admire for always wearing earrings.
You are building a village. It’s not about pride—it’s about survival and sanity.
- Revisit Who You Were Before
What did you love before motherhood? Was it gardening? Writing poems in your Notes app? Sketching while listening to Bon Iver?
Do one thing this week that reconnects you to her. She’s still there, under the mom jeans and the school drop-offs.
- Redefine “Productivity”
Folding laundry doesn’t make you a good mom. Being present does. Some days, productivity looks like clean floors. Other days, it looks like clean floors. Other days, it looks like laughing at your kid’s weird knock-knock joke for the fifth time.
Give yourself grace. You are not a machine. You’re a human. A tired, wonderful, loving human.
- Let Your Kids See Your Joy
Your joy is not separate from their happiness—it’s part of it. When they see you taking care of yourself, chasing something you love, protecting your peace—they learn it’s okay to do the same.
My mom, for all the pain she went through, never hid her joy. She danced in the kitchen. She sang sad songs then burst into laughter. She was alive, even when the world tried to shrink her.
That stayed with me more than any bedtime.
You Are Not Just “Mom.” You’re You.
Motherhood isn’t the end of your identity. It’s just another chapter—and it doesn’t have to erase the ones before.
You can be tired and powerful. You can be nurturing and ambitious. You can love your children with your whole being and still be your own person.
So today, I want you to ask yourself:
What does she need?
The woman inside the mother. The girl you used to be. The soul that has always been yours.
She’s still here. And she’s rooting for you.
To the mother who became mom and dad.
To the woman who raises children with or without your help.
To the ones who didn’t sign up for this but show up anyway.
To the moms who miss who they were but are learning to love who they are becoming.
You are not alone.
You are not invincible.
And you are doing better than you think.
So go on. Hug yourself today. Remind that woman inside you that she’s still got it.
And if you’re still not sure?
Sit down, breathe, play your favorite song, and just start there.
She’ll meet you halfway.
