Before motherhood, I thought I had a pretty good idea of who I was.
I was ambitious, organized (for the most part) and convinced that I understood what ‘busy’ really meant. I was filled with anxiety and didn’t know what was coming. These are moments no one prepares you for. Of course, there are online baby classes which we can attend and get a lot of general information on how to care for a baby.
I have had my share of sleepless nights, nervousness on how to handle my baby while dealing with colic, if my baby was sick – then what should I do? I just wanted to cry whenever my baby cried! All that stress and always getting overwhelmed whenever there was something new with my baby – a first timer.
During all that time I forgot something very important – during my pregnancy, I had imagined that motherhood would simply be another beautiful chapter added to my life, one where I would still be ‘Me’ but just with a baby on my hip and maybe less sleep. What I didn’t expect that motherhood would quietly, completely and beautifully reshape me.
Not overnight, not dramatically but in tiny moments I never saw coming.
I never imagined that I would the kind of person who could function and survive on broken sleep and still somehow show up with love. Someone who could feel overjoyed over the tiniest things like a sleepy cuddle, tiny footsteps running towards me, hearing ‘Mama’ called out like I’m the safest place in the world. I didn’t expect motherhood to make me softer and stronger at the same time. Because somewhere between bedtime stories, endless snack requests and carrying the invisible mental checklist of an entire household, I became someone different – Someone more patient, someone more emotional, someone who suddenly tears up a little milestone because, ‘How is time moving this fast?!’
Motherhood introduced me to a version of myself that feels unfamiliar at times – the woman who worries more deeply, loves more fiercely and somehow carries an endless capacity to give, even on days when she feels empty.
But if I’m being honest, motherhood also challenged me in ways I never expected.
There were moments I missed the old version of me. The woman who had interrupted thoughts, spontaneous plans and a little more silence. The version of me who wasn’t constantly needed. And for a while, I felt guilty admitting that.
During this time, I’ve learned something important: missing parts of your old self doesn’t mean you love motherhood any less. It simply means you’re a human.
The truth is, motherhood didn’t erase who I was – it expanded me.
She still exists, the woman I was before.
She just looks a little different now.
A little softer around the edges.
A little stronger in spirit.
A little more tired, perhaps.
But fuller somehow.
More grounded.
More grateful.
More aware of what truly matters.
The motherhood version of me is not someone I planned for, expected, or even recognized at first. But she is becoming someone I deeply admire.
And maybe that’s the beautiful thing about motherhood – it introduces you to a version of yourself you never knew existed.
One who loves deeper than she thought possible.
One who bends without breaking.
One who learns, grows and evolves right alongside her child.
And honestly? – She’s still figuring it out.
But she’s doing her best – coffee in her hand, heart wide open and learning to embrace the woman motherhood is helping her become.
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