Before I became a mother, I didn’t believe my life would change so radically. It was just a dream to complete my existence, to give my life some meaning, and a bunch of other silly things that were stuck in my head back then… so I had to become a mom at all costs. So many women had done it, why not me??
It’s a piece of cake — a simple walk in the park — because I (unlike many other unfit moms) have a special gift. I know it, I feel it — I’ll be an excellent mother because I won’t be shouting at my kids in the car when I’m exhausted. I’ll never drag them through the supermarket when they are screaming like demons because I said no to buying the entire supermarket aisle of candy.
But who does those things?? How is it possible to lose control and yell at that angel who threw his plate on the floor because he didn’t want to eat the food that was on it???
I’ve got this!! Besides, my kid will truly be an angel — it’s in the genes, what else would it be???
After ten years of managing to raise three boys with a lot of mental and physical strength — without any of us having committed suicide or ended up in a mental institution — my worldview has changed a lot. I’ve come to appreciate certain things I couldn’t handle before, and I’ve drawn different conclusions now that I’ve (finally) recovered from total exhaustion, constant mood swings, and inexplicable outbursts.
And I’d love to share them with you.
The Biggest Lie We’re Told About Motherhood
Let’s start with the uncomfortable truth.
Motherhood is not instinctive bliss wrapped in pastel colors and soft lullabies. It’s not endless patience, perfectly balanced meals, and Pinterest-worthy memories. And no — losing your temper does not mean you are failing as a mother.
The biggest lie we’re told is that good mothers don’t struggle.
In reality, good mothers struggle the most, because they care deeply, give endlessly, and often forget themselves completely.
I didn’t become calmer when I became a mom.
I became overstimulated.
I didn’t become wiser overnight.
I became responsible for three entire human beings while still trying to understand myself. And no one prepares you for that.
The Day I Realized I Wasn’t Weak — I Was Overloaded
There was a moment — I remember it clearly — when I stood in the kitchen surrounded by noise, crumbs, unanswered questions, and a to-do list screaming in my head. One child was crying, another was arguing, and the third needed something right now.
I wasn’t angry.
I wasn’t cruel.
I was empty.
That’s when it hit me:
I wasn’t failing at motherhood — I was failing at taking care of myself.
Women are expected to give endlessly without rest, without support, without recognition — and then feel ashamed when their nervous system collapses under the weight.
This isn’t a personal flaw.
It’s a systemic one.
What Raising Three Boys Taught Me About Women’s Strength
Motherhood stripped me down to my rawest self — and then rebuilt me stronger.
Here’s what I learned (the hard way):
1. Patience Is Not Infinite — and That’s Normal
You are human before you are a mother. Expecting endless calm is unrealistic and unfair.
2. Guilt Is a Silent Energy Vampire
Mom guilt drains joy, confidence, and self-worth. Let it go. Your children don’t need perfection — they need authenticity.
3. A Regulated Mother Raises Regulated Children
Your well-being is not optional. It’s foundational. Sleep, nourishment, mental health, boundaries — these aren’t luxuries.
4. Asking for Help Is Strength, Not Failure
Strong women don’t do it all alone. They build support systems and protect their energy fiercely.
The Version of Me Motherhood Created
I am no longer the woman who thought she’d never yell.
I am the woman who knows why she yelled — and how to repair, reconnect, and grow.
I am more grounded.
More compassionate.
Less judgmental — especially toward other mothers.
And yes, I still lose my patience sometimes.
But now I also apologize.
I reflect.
I heal.
That’s real empowerment.
Why Mothers Need Empowerment — Not Judgment
Women don’t need more advice shouted at them from perfect Instagram squares.
They need honesty.
They need community.
They need tools that actually support their lives — emotionally, mentally, and physically.
Empowered mothers raise empowered children.
Rested mothers raise calmer homes.
Supported women change the world quietly, one healed nervous system at a time.
If You’re Reading This and Nodding — You’re Not Alone
If motherhood has humbled you, exhausted you, reshaped you, and made you question everything — welcome.
You’re not broken.
You’re becoming.
This journal exists because women deserve real stories, real support, and real conversations about life, motherhood, and identity. Not sugar-coated illusions — but strength built from truth.
And if no one told you this today, let me be the one:
You are doing better than you think.
You are stronger than you feel.
And your story — messy, loud, imperfect — matters.
💬 Let’s Talk
If this post resonated with you, share it with another woman who needs to hear it. And stay — there’s so much more we’re going to unpack together here at A Mother’s Life Journal.
Because empowered women don’t rise alone. 💛
