The Pressure to Keep Up in Motherhood
Twenty months ago, I became a mum to my beautiful daughter and I wouldn’t trade her for the world. Becoming a mum has been the most magical and rewarding thing I’ve ever done but somewhere between sleepless nights, selling my car, and scraping together moments of peace between work and parenting, I lost parts of myself I didn’t expect to lose. And I’ve been trying to find them ever since.
Life Before Motherhood
Before becoming a mum I was what you’d call a career woman.
I worked full time doing hair, managed a salon and skin clinic on top of that, as well as running an ecommerce business. I had the income to enjoy life. I drove a BMW that felt like a trophy for all my hard work. Had the designer bags. I went out often, pampered myself, caught up with friends. Life had a rhythm and I felt in control.
The First Six Months of Maternity Leave
This was actually such a beautiful time.
I felt supported, surrounded by a village, full of new love and purpose. I was so lucky to have so many friends have babies around the same time I did and it brought us all closer together. But after that? Life started to shift. Quietly at first and then all at once.
Returning to Work After Baby
When I returned to work after maternity leave, things got really tough.
I was working part time making less than my maternity pay and I was no longer a manager. Some weeks, I didn’t know if I’d be able to pay rent. I was back at work trying to earn, but still couldn’t afford childcare. My mum helped where she could, but she had her own struggles going on so it became inconsistent, and some days I was having to cancel clients and not go in to work.
At times, Josh’s Nana (Hailey’s Great Grandmother) would travel all the way from Mangawhai to Auckland to help us just so I could go and work. It felt like we were constantly just holding things together with tape and hope.
A New Chapter… That Didn’t Last
Then, finally, it looked like things were turning around.
We were getting married at the end of November. I was planning to go self employed in the new year. We found a beautiful new home with more space and a stunning view of the forest to move into in January which was in our ideal suburb. It was close to Hailey’s new daycare and Josh’s work. It felt like a fresh start. A new chapter as we headed into married life.
But it didn’t last.
That was when I officially left employment and went fully self employed. And the pressure didn’t go away. The struggle was still there, just packaged differently. I thought things would start feeling easier, but they didn’t.
Losing the Old Me
Suddenly, the nice car was gone.
I had to sell it because the upkeep of a European car that was getting up in its mileage was getting expensive. My hair and nails became an indulgence I couldn’t justify. My social life faded. And I found myself spending most days at home, exhausted, flat, uninspired.
If I had a little spare cash and got the chance to get away from mum duties even for an hour I would go out for a solo café meal just to feel a little flicker of who I used to be. Something I used to do with friends on the regular. I felt a sense of loneliness and I felt misunderstood by those close to me who weren’t going through what I was.
Josh and I love each other, but we’re tired. We don’t get much time for ourselves, let alone for each other. A proper date night? That’s a distant memory. And when you’re both just surviving, connection gets lost in the chaos of nappies, night feeds, and to do lists.
I Thought I’d Be Further Along By Now
Lately, I’ve caught myself thinking, “I thought I’d be further along by now.”
At 35, I imagined I’d be thriving.
I thought I’d have more security, more freedom, more space for joy. I thought I’d be building an empire not just keeping the lights on. Meanwhile, my friends are buying bigger homes, scaling businesses, upgrading their cars and going on vacations with their kids. Their partners bring in strong incomes (or what seems on the outside looking in), while I, who was once the breadwinner, have had to adjust to so much less.
And I know, logically, that material things don’t define worth. But they do represent something. That car I had to sell? It wasn’t just a car. It was proof of who I once was: confident, capable, in control. Losing it felt like losing a piece of me.
Learning to Love the Messy Middle
What I’ve learned, though, is this:
You can love your child more than life itself and still grieve the life you left behind. You can be endlessly grateful and feel flat and lost. You can admire your friends and ache for what you don’t have.
There is space for all of it.
This season of life isn’t failure, it’s the messy middle of transformation. It’s not pretty. It’s not Instagrammable. But it’s real. And that matters.
Taking Small Steps Back to Me
So I’ve started to take small, loving steps toward myself again.
I created a simple checklist to remind myself that joy is still possible, even in the quiet.
You can download it for yourself here 📋
I plan solo outings. I light a candle and eat dessert with Josh after Hailey’s asleep. I reflect on the life I still want to create, even if it looks different now. This is just a chapter not our ending.
And I want you to know:
If you feel behind, or broken, or like the best parts of you are buried under nappies and never ending to do lists, you’re not alone.
You’re just rebuilding.
You’re not failing. You’re evolving.
And this version of you? She’s still worthy. Still powerful. Still becoming.
If you resonated with this, or you can relate in anyway to the major transitions that happen from child free to mother, you’re not alone. If it aligns, you can sign up to my community of women doing it all here:
Join The Inner Circle Here ✨🫶🏻
Please also feel free to comment below or flick me an email. This needs to be talked about more.
Love Jasmine xx