Losing, and Finding Yourself Again in Motherhood
When I gave birth to my son, I expected a certain kind of hard. Sleepless nights, feeding schedules, childcare logistics - all the things we’re told to prepare for. What I didn’t expect was the quiet identity shift that followed.
I went back to work. I returned after maternity leave, as planned, and eased back into the rhythm I knew well. But something had shifted. It wasn’t immediate, and it certainly wasn’t loud. It was a slow, growing realisation that the version of me who had once poured everything into climbing the ladder no longer existed in quite the same way.
There’s very little language. No handbook for the quiet undoing of former ambitions. I no longer wanted to organise my life around impossible deadlines that required me to sacrifice time with my family. I most certainly didn’t have the energy to navigate the politics either.
That feeling came with its own kind of shame. Especially when your previous identity was tied to performance and achievement. There was this overachieving sense of letting people down. People who had told me that, as a woman, I could “have it all.” It was almost as though it was my responsibility to have it all. By admitting that I no longer found value in being an actuary, was I becoming less driven? Was I undoing the progress made by women before me? What about all the hard work I had poured into my career so far?
The truth is, I still cared deeply about doing something meaningful. I just no longer found that meaning in the same places. That slow shift is what eventually led me to create Coeur et Maman, a space I’ve built to support women navigating the vulnerable transition of early motherhood.
Born out of my own reckoning, I wanted to create something that offered an outlet to simply be in the discomfort of not yet knowing. Partway between who we once were, and deeply uncertain about who we’re becoming.
When I looked around me, I felt an echo from other new mothers; they too were lost, and perhaps a little scared.
What I realised through my journey is that pausing, just for a moment, amidst the routines of daily life, was sometimes enough to re-centre me. So I started making a concerted effort to create rituals that forced me to slow down: making Saturdays our family brunch day with pancakes, fruit and cream; taking photos to celebrate milestone ; carving out a corner of the home that reflected how we actually lived as a family.
It was never anything grand. Just small, intentional moments became joyful moments of celebration. I began to put less pressure on myself to have everything figured out, and instead focused on tiny moments that felt aligned.
Coeur et Maman was my way of sharing that realisation with other new mothers. By creating opportunities for young families to curate their homes in a meaningful, considered way that, over time, offers comfort, a sense of belonging, and eventually, identity. Our homes form the backdrop of our lived experiences. A nursery print or wallpaper that hung in our childhood home can evoke happy memories and tie us to something bigger than ourselves.
My hope is that new mothers navigating this identity shift feel a little less alone. That they know how completely normal it is to feel lost and unsure, and that they find the courage to step outside the expectations of what they “should” be doing.
It takes five years for a woman to find herself again after having a child. If you’re feeling unsure a year or two in, you’re right on time. Please take off the pressure to have the answers right away. Lean into the daily moments that offer you respite. Somewhere in all that mundanity, answers will begin to emerge.
For some, it might be a reinvention of career or purpose. For others, a renewed sense of meaning in a familiar path. I hope you’ll hold space for either, or both, to evolve, without judgment or pressure.