I’ve Never Been That Kind of Mother

On loving my kids deeply without making them my entire life

Photo by Nicholas Ng on Unsplash

There’s this idea that being a good mother means always putting your children first.

I’ve never been that kind of mother.

Don’t get me wrong—I would go to the ends of the earth for my daughters if they truly needed something.

I already make plenty of decisions that revolve around them. Multiple dance classes in one day. Constant schedule juggling.

And if something were actually wrong? I’d do whatever it takes to get them help.

But I also say no to them. Often.

Just this past weekend, my 10-year-old asked me to drive 20 minutes to a store so she could spend her own money on a bad financial decision—I mean, some useless piece of junk that’s currently impossible to find.

I said no. Mostly because it was inconvenient.

And she needs to learn early that the world does not revolve around her.

Not even mine.

Becoming a mother changed my life in all the best ways.

I’ve never once regretted it.

But I didn’t disappear. And I didn’t become only a mom.

It changed me—mostly for the better, and sometimes in ways I didn’t see coming.

I’m more patient now. Not endlessly patient, but more than I used to be. My husband might argue that I’m still not patient enough.

I care about things more deeply than I used to.

And my time management skills? They’ve gone from decent to borderline impressive. I’m basically a time management queen at this point.

All good things.

But I didn’t lose myself in the process.

It added a line to my biography. It didn’t erase the rest of the page.

It’s part of my identity. Not my whole identity.

I can love what I have and still want more.

I’m still a wife, a daughter, and a good friend.

I’m still really good at my job.

And I’m still a writer, a creator, and a wine-drinking, big hat-wearing, not-done-yet woman.

Yes, my daughters need me. But they also need me to be more than just their mother. They need to see what that looks like.

I remember the first day I dropped my oldest daughter off at daycare and went back to work after maternity leave. I braced myself for tears—mine, not hers. All the mommy blogs had warned me how painful it would be, how it would feel like my heart was being ripped out of my chest.

When it came time to leave that day, I didn’t cry.

It felt like one of many times I’d leave my daughter with someone I trusted so I could go live another part of my life.

That day, it was going back to work. Yes, we needed the money. But I also needed to work—because I love my career, and it’s important to me.

I still get emotional sometimes.

I’m writing this on a plane, about to be away from my daughters for a few days, and I already miss them.

But we’re told, over and over, that being a mother means always putting your children first and yourself last.

I don’t think that’s true.

We make a big deal about treating ourselves around Mother’s Day.

How many Instagram Reels have we all seen where the punchline is that all moms really want is some quiet time alone?

But honestly, we should be treating ourselves all the time.

And that can look different for each of us. Sure, maybe it’s a spa day. But maybe it’s just getting to spend time with your friends without feeling guilty.

We don’t need one day a year to justify taking up space in our own lives.

I’m not waiting for Mother’s Day to rest. Or to have fun.Or to remember who I am outside of being someone’s mom.

I didn’t stop being me when I became a mother.

And I’m not about to start now.

PS: Thank you to my mom, who gave me so much growing up—and who now shows up for my girls as the best Nana there is. Happy Mother’s Day!