Motherhood Didn’t End My Dreams — It Fueled Them.

There was a time when I thought motherhood meant you couldn’t have it all. Especially in those early days — the nightly wake-ups, cluster feeding, the endless nappy changes. I grew up thinking that to be a good mother, you had to devote your entire life to your child.

But I’ve since learned that’s not true. That’s an outdated expectation — a belief rooted in the idea that women can’t lead successful lives and raise children.

And the opposite happened to me. Becoming a mother ignited something in me. It paved the way for me to start chasing my goals more vigorously — even if I didn’t realise it at first.

Something Shifted

That clarity didn’t come straight away. For the first year, I was deep in devotion. That’s when babies need you most — when they’re vulnerable, when the hormones are wild and everything feels raw and tender.

But something started to shift as my son approached toddlerhood. He became a little more independent, a little more himself — and I began to think ahead to the future. To a time when he’d be dressing himself, making friends at school, cooking his own meals.

It was in that long-distance vision that I realised — he wouldn’t need me in the same way forever.

Breaking the Pattern

I started to reflect on my own childhood. It was turbulent at times, painful, soul-defining. And one thing stood out to me more than ever since becoming a mother myself:

My mum lost herself in motherhood. All she knew was how to nurture. And now that me and my sister are grown, I see her struggling.

Stuck.

Her spark dimmed, her drive gone. I knew that was a pattern I didn’t want to repeat.

It’s not that there’s anything wrong with giving your all to motherhood —but it’s so important not to lose yourself in the process.

Finding My Way Back

I remember starting my Level 2 in counselling — I didn’t even know I was pregnant at the time. When I found out, panic set in. How would I finish my course with everything that comes with pregnancy?

But something lit up inside me. I felt an extra surge of determination, a need to continue. I completed the course and gave birth to my son — and the doubt came rushing back. This was it, I thought. This was as far as I’d get with my dream career.

Everything felt overwhelming.

But slowly, something shifted again. I looked at this little human who depended on me — but would also look up to me.

And that’s when I made the decision to start my Level 3.

The Hardest Part

My son was around 16 months old. I found a childminder who could care for him on Tuesdays and Thursdays while I studied and carved out some time for myself. That was the hardest part — not the course itself, but placing him in the care of someone I didn’t know well yet.

It took trust. It took letting go of guilt. But I reminded myself — I wasn’t just returning to work. I was chasing a dream.

My dream.

A dream I had always carried, but didn’t have the time or finances to pursue — until now.

And the timing couldn’t have been more aligned.

Rebuilding Me

Now that I’ve completed my Level 3, I feel more determined than ever. Excited for the next stage of becoming a counsellor. Committed to continuing my writing, healing myself, and rebuilding my identity.

It’s not always easy — holding both the routine and the risk, the naps and the notebooks, the school bags and soul goals.

But this is the version of motherhood I’m building. A version where my son sees me not only caring for him, but also caring for myself. Where I show up in soft clothes and fierce purpose.

This Is Powerful

Because the truth is:

My dreams don’t take away from him. They make me more me — and that’s who I want him to know.

Yes, there are days I still feel guilt. When I carve out time to write. When I think too long about what I want to build.

But then I remember: I’m not just raising a child.

I’m raising me.

And I want him to grow up knowing that women can be everything:

Gentle and ambitious. Loving and layered. Present and purposeful.

So here I am — a mum with a dream.

And I’m slowly learning…That’s not selfish.

That’s powerful.

This post originally appeared on my personal blog at DiaryofAModernMummy