When I became a mother, my whole world shifted. Like many women, it completely took over my entire being. It felt as though everything I once knew about myself just disappeared. Suddenly, I wasn’t Amanda anymore, I was “mom” and “wife.” For a while, I accepted that. I even found comfort in it. But as time passed, I began to notice something missing. A quiet emptiness started to creep in, and eventually I felt very lost.
Now, let me be clear: I love being a wife and a mother. Those roles have shaped me and they are a part of me that I cherish. But they also became all of me. I forgot I was allowed to be anything else. I put pressure on myself to live up to an idea of being the “perfect” mother and wife. Deep down, I knew perfection didn’t exist, but I kept chasing it anyway. The more I tried, the harder I fell. I kept comparing myself to others and tearing myself apart when I didn’t measure up.
I wouldn’t allow myself to fail. I convinced myself that anything less than perfect was failure. But this mindset was destroying me. Instead of getting closer to that image in my head, I was drifting further away from it. I was exhausted and empty.
Then, about six months before I got pregnant with my third child, it finally hit me. I realized perfection isn’t real. I couldn’t keep neglecting who I was as a person. So, I began slowly, trying to remember the things I loved before motherhood took over. I started doing little things I once enjoyed and even tried new ones.
I wish I could say it was easy, but it wasn’t. Every time I stepped away from my kids to do something for myself, the guilt would set in. If I went for a walk alone or took time to exercise while my husband stayed with the kids, I felt selfish. I told myself I was letting them down, even though that wasn’t true. The guilt lived in my head, not in reality.
This journey has now been about four and a half years, and I’m still learning. I still need reminders that I am allowed to do things for me. I don’t need to be perfect. I don’t need to lose myself. I am a wife and a mother, but I am also my own person.
Here’s the surprising part: when you start searching for yourself outside of motherhood, you may not find the same person you were before. For me, it felt like I was discovering someone completely new. At first that was scary, but I came to see it as an opportunity. It was like meeting myself all over again.
Motherhood does change you. That’s not a bad thing. It’s just the truth. You grow, you shift, you learn new parts of yourself. I didn’t throw away the person I used to be. I took what I loved about her and built on it. At the same time, I let go of the parts that no longer fit.
Before kids, I was very social. I wanted everyone around me to be happy, and I was always the first one to help. But that also meant I got walked on. I often gave too much of myself and left nothing for me. After becoming a mom, I finally learned to set boundaries. I began to understand my worth. I realized that while others may “need” me, my children, my marriage, and my own well-being had to come first. Everyone else would come second.
That was a lesson I had needed for years. Looking back, I see how many situations I could have avoided if I had learned this earlier. But I can’t live in the past. All I can do is take those lessons and grow from them.
Over time, my passions and interests changed. The things I pour into now look different, but they are still mine. I learned that taking time for myself doesn’t take away from being a wife or mother, it makes me stronger in those roles.
I know it can feel overwhelming to even know where to start. The idea of finding yourself outside of being a mom and wife can feel like standing at the bottom of a mountain. My advice? Start small. Don’t rush. Try one new thing. Buy an outfit that makes you feel like yourself. Go for a walk. Test the waters, little by little.
Take time to think about what you want for yourself. Think about the parts of you that make you proud, and the parts you want to change. Growth is a form of love. It’s not selfish. It’s healing.
You are allowed to evolve. You are allowed to shed what doesn’t serve you and hold onto what does. When you open the door to self-growth, you’ll see yourself returning in ways you didn’t expect.
I can’t give anyone a perfect formula for this, because it doesn’t exist. But I can say this: if you are one of the many mothers who feel lost, take the time to meet yourself again. Learn who you are now. You are worth that effort. You are more than just a wife and a mother. You are you and that is enough.
