"When Did Being a Mother Mean Giving Up Myself?"

The day I became a mother, something beautiful happened. But something unfair also began.

Suddenly, the world stopped seeing me as me. I was no longer the cheerful, witty girl. Now I was “mummy.” Or worse — “aunty.”
As if one moment of birth rewrites every part of my identity.

And let’s talk about that word — “woman.” Society throws it at us like a weight:

“Behave like a woman.”
“Dress like a mom.”
“Act your age.”

But what does that even mean?

Why can’t a mother laugh loudly, flirt with life, feel sexy, feel wanted?
Why do we suddenly have to stop feeling beautiful just because our body has changed?
Why is ageing supposed to dim our sparkle?

Honestly… sometimes I don’t even recognize myself.
Not just in the mirror — but in the way I’m expected to be.
Even our partners — the ones who once looked at us with fire — begin to drift.
And somewhere inside, we stop feeling desirable.

But here’s my truth: I’m done with that.

Yes, I’m a mother. I’ve done something powerful.
But I still want to live — not just survive.
I want to laugh, dance, feel sexy, wear what I love, speak what I feel.
Not because I don’t care — but because I do.
I care about my joy. I care about feeling alive.
I care about being a whole woman — not a role-playing robot.

So please…
Don’t tell me to act my age.
Don’t call me aunty like I’ve expired.
Don’t make me feel guilty for wanting more.

Because I am more.
And I’ll mother my child — while mothering my spirit too.
In my way.
On my terms.
And with my head held high.

A Mom Who's Reclaiming Herself — One Day at a Time
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