The Inner Work of Motherhood: A Mother’s Day Reflection

Mother’s Day often comes with flowers, cards, and well-meaning tributes that celebrate all we do. We carry so much—physically, emotionally, mentally—and often overlook the significance of it ourselves. We definitely deserve acknowledgment and appreciation, even from within.

But what if we also took this opportunity to honor who we are becoming?

We carry children in our arms—and unspoken questions in our hearts and minds:

• Who am I now?

• What if I mess this up?

• How do I make time for me and is that even “allowed”?

• Am I enough?

These questions are sacred. They are signposts pointing us inward, illuminating parts of ourselves that may have been dormant, silenced, or compartmentalized. Our anxiety, people-pleasing, high-achieving, and perfectionistic tendencies often rise to the surface, initiating a new level of self-awareness we’ve never experienced before.

I often say motherhood is the greatest invitation to personal growth we’ll ever receive. In fact, it feels more like a summons to reconnect with ourselves and embark on a rite of passage to wholeness.

Some of the connections we make with ourselves are warm and nostalgic, like recalling fond childhood memories and sentimental family traditions. Others can be downright uncomfortable, especially when we’re invited to look at…

• Cultural expectations,

• Patterns we learned in childhood,

• Societal messaging,

• Intergenerational trauma we may have inherited,

• The tension between the relationship we long to build with our children—and the real-life constraints that complicate it,

• And so much more.

The positive connections feel good and come easily. But the uncomfortable ones? They tell a different story.

Here’s the catch…

In my experience, the prickly conections hold the most power for freedom and transformation—and they’re worth fighting for, not against.

Wholeness, Not Perfection

As women and mothers, we are being called to integrate—to stop separating the parts of us that feel inconvenient, messy, or “too much” from the parts that look good on the outside.

We are being called to claim our voice, even when it shakes.

To feel our feelings, even when they’re not pretty.

To set boundaries, even when it disappoints others.

To care for our wellbeing, even when it means breaking generational cycles of martyrdom.

In short, we are being called to take the driver’s seat of our lives—and question the GPS roadmap we’ve been following that we never consciously programmed.

The pursuit of wholeness isn’t achieved through relentless self-improvement to “fix” a part of ourselves that’s deemed broken. This process of coming back home to ourselves is a mix of honest reflection, messy self-discovery and vulnerability, a break from “traditional” and/or patriarchal norms, and an abundance of grace and patience.

Sometimes, the most powerful thing we can do along this journey is to pause.

To sit in stillness.

To wait.

To rest.

To be.

Like nature, our evolution is seasonal. Sometimes we bloom—stretching toward more learning, more expansion, more connection. Other times, we’re in a holding pattern, rooted in the present moment because perhaps that’s all we can muster.

All seasons are sacred.

All seasons are valid.

All seasons are right on time.

Selfish Reflections

Since becoming a life coach for moms in 2016, I’ve stepped into the driver’s seat of my life—consciously evolving, learning about myself, and breaking cycles that no longer serve me.

Motherhood has been, by far, my greatest teacher in the journey home to myself. In a journey we’re told should be all about our kids, I argue that centering ourselves and our wholeness is the path toward being the mom we want to be for our children.

My journey so far has taught me to slow down, ask bigger questions, and become in ways I never imagined. It’s taught me to trust that I’m the expert of my own life, even when I don’t have all the answers.

And it’s reminded me that the best gift I can give my daughter isn’t perfect behavior or constant productivity—but a mother who is reflective, pursues wholeness, and is willing to keep evolving.

So this Mother’s Day, I’m not chasing a better version of me. I’m honoring the woman I’ve always been, the one I’m still discovering, and the one I’m becoming next.

If you’re in this season too—whether it feels like a bloom or a quiet hibernation—I see you. I celebrate you. I’m walking this path with you.

And this Mother’s Day, I’m wishing you a day that reflects more of you, rather than less.