How I found myself again after becoming a mother

I became a mother in 2024.

But in the two years prior, I did the most intense, rewarding self-discovery I had done so far in my lifetime. I took a course on the psychology of money with my husband (shout out to The Cashflow Co, as their program and mentorship changed the trajectory of my life!), I started working as a copywriter, I learned sales and coaching, and started exploring the world of owning a business. My world was finally opening up, after years of living in a box of what was “expected” of me.

It was the most liberating feeling. I couldn’t believe how much fulfilment I was experiencing from pushing outside of the typical boundaries I had lived within for most of my life. I would quite literally come out of coaching sessions bouncing off the walls. It was amazing and I was so hungry for more. My husband and I spent hours dreaming about our future, mapping out how we were going to make it happen, and things felt so expansive.

Throughout my pregnancy, I got to do more and more of the coaching. I felt so ALIVE. And honestly, I thought I was ready for what was coming.

I wasn’t.

When my daughter was born, it was like an emotional whiplash. I knew intellectually that things would change. But I was fully in the mindset that I would take maybe 3-4 months max off, and then I’d be straight back into it. I even told the clients I was working with that I’d still be online and able to answer questions after bub was born.

This was not the case at all. My world shifted in a way I don’t think I could’ve seen coming. Yes, people had talked to me about how much life changes when you have a baby. And yes, I had learned in my midwife classes about this concept of “matrescence” - which, if you haven’t heard of this, it’s essentially the massive shift that happens physically, emotionally, psychologically when you become a mother.

It felt as though my world had imploded around me.

The only thing I could see or make sense of was that my daughter needed me. All. The. Time. She struggled with sleep (what babies don’t, let’s be real), she always wanted to be with me, and there was no room in my life for anything else.

And for awhile, I actually told the story that being a mother was the ultimate end game for me. That all of those dreams I had before when I was pregnant didn’t actually matter. I remember telling a psychologist once that I couldn’t relate to the other mums who I’d heard say it was hard to spend all day every day with their little one, because I was just so enthralled with the experience and couldn’t think of anything better than spending every moment with her for her entire childhood.

This wasn’t necessarily untrue. But it wasn’t the full truth.

Now, almost a year and a half later, I can see that this was a way of me trying to make sense of how I could possibly live in a world where these dreams were now completely out of my reach.

They didn’t even feel like mine anymore.

I had gotten SO close. I had unlocked this part of me that had been quietly sitting in the background for most of my life. I had always been the person who helped my friend through a breakup or quitting a bad job, or just talked them through whatever situation was going on for them. It felt like the most natural skill for me, and it filled my cup in the best way. And I had finally found an avenue where I could make this skill purposeful and intentional.

This dream of becoming a coach was finally within my grasp. And then, in what felt like an instant, this drive, this deep sense of purpose… was taken away. It was replaced with this whole new set of responsibilities. And don’t get me wrong, being a mother has created a whole new definition of the word ‘expansive’ for me. It truly is amazing and I am so grateful.

But wow did I feel this deep, deep sense of grief, too.

For about 9-10 months, I tried my best to adjust to this new reality. A reality where I decided to let those dreams go and shift into this new identity of being the most present mum I could be. I was pretty sure I could convince myself that this was the real dream. I made the most of my days - I took my daughter to playgroups, met up with friends, read her endless books, baked together, contact napped every single day (looking back, those contact naps actually were a dream).

But as my maternity leave came to a close, my husband and I also came to a crossroads: I needed to either go back to work as an employee, or start a business.

So we decided to start a speech pathology business here on the Sunshine Coast, because I have the qualifications and experience in the industry. The justification was that we had been wanting to start a business for a long time, and what better way to learn ‘the game’ of business than by choosing an industry I already have knowledge in.

Again, intellectually this all made perfect sense.

So I said yes.

The only problem was that when I went on maternity leave, I was burnt out as hell from this profession. I had actually told many of my friends when I went on mat leave that I’d never come back to speech pathology. It wasn’t fulfilling, it was draining my energy, and I felt stuck. That being said, I know that often the environment of how you work can hugely dictate how you feel about the work itself. So I wanted to at least give it a go and see if I could find that part of me again.

My husband I started pulling it all together. Building a website. Setting up the back-end tech. Making sure I had all my insurances and certifications up to date. And in September, I started seeing clients again. It was nerve wracking but exhilerating at the same time.

And I started to feel the shift.

The fog was starting to lift.

If you’re reading this and you’re a mum, you know what I’m talking about. The fog is real, and for me, it was thick. I wish I could go back and give that version of me a hug and tell her that the other side of postpartum exists and the fog will lift eventually.

Now I’m just about 6 months into this speech pathology business. And truth be told, I was right that the environment has made a big difference. I’ve set things up to work better for me, and I’m working with some lovely families. It’s great.

But it’s not “the dream.”

So here I am, now almost a year and a half postpartum. And for the past few months, this coaching dream of mine has started to reemerge. Bubbling quietly (but lately with increasing volume) beneath the surface. Desperate for me to turn towards it. I’ve only really spoken it aloud to a few people at this point, because only now do I recognise how real it is. How deeply, wholly aligned I feel when I’m coaching. How deeply, wholly aware I am of how special this feeling is, to have this sense of passion and alignment and drive, after having lost it for over a year.

It is sacred.

And what is arguably even more sacred is realising that one dream does not have to cancel out the other. I can be a present, loving mother, while also pursuing this passion. I can be attuned to my daughter’s needs and prioritise her exploration of the world, while also honouring my drive to learn and evolve as an entrepreneur.

How bloody cool is that?

That’s the reason for me starting this substack account. To help me make sense of all of these thoughts and feelings, to help me navigate life as a mother, as an entrepreneur, as a coach. But I’m also adding a new layer to it, where instead of doing it in voice notes or text messages to single friend, I’m going to write my thoughts publicly. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, but have never been brave enough to try.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned since becoming a mother, it’s that life is too short to not pursue what you want when you have the opportunity to do so.

You have to go all in.