Motherhood Isn’t One Story; It’s Many Lives at Once.
Motherhood is often spoken about as a single, defining role. A beginning, a role, a responsibility — neatly defined and universally understood. But the truth is far more layered. Motherhood is not one story with a clear beginning and end. It is many lives unfolding simultaneously, often overlapping, sometimes colliding, and always reshaping who you are.
There is the visible life — the one the world sees. The packed lunches, the schedules, the school runs, the constant presence. The showing up, every single day, often without applause.
This is the part that is acknowledged and, at times, even celebrated. But beneath this visible layer exists a quieter reality. It is the emotional and mental work that rarely gets named. The remembering, anticipating, worrying, planning, and adjusting that happens constantly, even in moments of rest. This emotional labor is not occasional; it is continuous, and it becomes one of the most defining aspects of modern motherhood. And here’s what’s beneath that surface…
The woman you were before motherhood.
The woman you are becoming within it.
The woman who still carries dreams, fatigue, ambition, doubt, and tenderness — all at once.
One of the least discussed truths about motherhood is how deeply it affects identity. Becoming a mother does not mean you stop being who you were before. Instead, it stretches that version of you, asking her to make room for new responsibilities, emotions, and priorities. Many women find themselves navigating an internal tension between the person they once were and the person they are now expected to be. This tension is not a failure to adapt; it is a natural response to profound change.
The most unspoken reality of motherhood is emotional labour.
It’s not just the tasks, it’s the remembering.
The anticipation.
The worrying ahead of time.
It’s knowing when a child is not okay before they say a word.
It’s carrying emotional calendars alongside physical ones.
It’s holding space for everyone else’s feelings while postponing your own.
This mental load doesn’t clock out.
It follows you into quiet moments, into sleep, into conversations that have nothing to do with parenting — and yet are shaped by it.
Many mothers carry this weight silently, because it’s easier to manage than to explain.
Loving Deeply While Losing Pieces
Motherhood comes with an intensity of love that is difficult to describe without softening the truth.
It is fierce.
It is consuming.
And sometimes, it is disorienting.
Because alongside that love, there can be loss — not of the child, but of self as you once knew her.
You might miss the ease of who you were.
The spontaneity.
The uninterrupted thoughts.
The freedom to move through life without constant responsibility.
And then guilt arrives — quietly, but firmly — because you are supposed to feel grateful. Fulfilled. Complete.
But motherhood allows for more than one truth to exist at the same time.
You can love deeply and still feel lost.
You can be present and still feel exhausted.
You can be grateful and still grieve parts of yourself.
These contradictions do not make you ungrateful.
They make you human.
As children grow, the roles within motherhood continue to evolve. You are not just a caregiver; you become a guide, a protector, a negotiator, a steady presence in moments of uncertainty. At the same time, many mothers are also professionals, entrepreneurs, partners, and individuals with ambitions that extend beyond family life. Balancing these roles is not about achieving perfect equilibrium. It is about constant adjustment, often made quietly and without recognition.
Motherhood and Identity: A Constant Negotiation
For working mothers and women building something of their own, this negotiation of identity becomes even more complex. The desire to contribute professionally or creatively can feel at odds with the expectations placed on motherhood. Yet ambition and caregiving are not opposites. They are parts of the same life, demanding integration rather than separation. The challenge lies not in wanting more, but in being allowed to want it without judgment.
Motherhood reshapes how you see yourself, not overnight, but gradually.
Your relationship with time changes.
Your definition of success shifts.
Your priorities rearrange themselves, often without asking for permission.
For many women, identity becomes a negotiation.
Who am I outside this role?
Who am I allowed to be now?
What parts of myself do I keep, and what parts must adapt?
This question becomes even louder for mothers who work, build businesses, or carry ambitions alongside caregiving.
The tension is real.
The balance is rarely perfect.
And the guilt often shows up uninvited.
Yet motherhood does not cancel ambition.
And ambition does not diminish love.
They coexist, sometimes uncomfortably, but truthfully.
Another overlooked aspect of motherhood is how it reshapes your relationship with time. Time becomes fragmented, measured in school hours, routines, and responsibilities. Personal time shrinks, often becoming something you negotiate for rather than assume. Over time, this can blur the boundaries between self and role, making it difficult to remember who you are outside of what is needed from you. Reclaiming even small moments of selfhood becomes an act of intention.

A caption for the above image.

Designed A Fun And Dynamic Hackout
Despite these challenges, motherhood also cultivates a quiet strength that is rarely acknowledged. It is not the loud, heroic strength often portrayed in narratives of sacrifice, but a steady resilience that grows through repetition. It is the ability to show up even when you are tired in ways rest cannot fully repair. It is the choice to remain emotionally available while carrying your own unspoken struggles. This strength does not always look impressive; sometimes it looks like simply getting through the day and allowing that to be enough.
The Many Roles We Live Simultaneously
Motherhood is not linear.
On any given day, you might be:
- A nurturer
- A decision-maker
- A worker
- A problem-solver
- A comforter
- A woman holding herself together
These lives overlap.
They interrupt each other.
They demand presence at the same time.
And still, you show up.
Not because you have mastered it, but because you have learned how to hold complexity.
Motherhood doesn’t erase who you were. It expands you into many lives at once.
Ramya Harman
Motherhood does not demand that you abandon your individuality. Instead, it asks you to expand it. This expansion is not always comfortable, and it does not follow a predictable path. Some chapters will feel rich and purposeful, while others will feel heavy and unresolved. Both belong to the same story.
You Are Allowed to Be More Than One Thing
Perhaps the most important truth motherhood teaches us, slowly, imperfectly, is this:
You do not have to choose one life over the other.
You can be a devoted mother and still crave solitude.
You can be deeply involved and still need space.
You can love your children fiercely and still want parts of your life to be yours.
Motherhood was never meant to reduce you to a single identity.
It was meant to expand you, even when that expansion feels uncomfortable.
This chapter is not about fixing motherhood.
It’s about naming it honestly.
Because motherhood isn’t one story.
It is many lives lived at once, and every one of them deserves recognition.
Motherhood was never meant to be a single story. It is layered, evolving, and deeply human. Recognizing this truth allows us to approach it with greater grace, not only toward others, but toward ourselves.
