After birthing a child, you get so wrapped up in the depths of new motherhood that it’s easy to lose yourself. Your boobs are leaking, you’re crying at Instagram reels, your clothes don’t feel right, and your hair’s whisping all over the place. You start to drift into the vast plains of parenting, unsure where you belong now. You’re overflowing with love and joy — yet there’s this quiet ache, this subtle mourning for the woman you used to be.
It’s confusing, isn’t it? How something so pure and magical can coexist with this tiny thread of sadness. You love your baby with every fibre of your being, but you also miss you — the spontaneous you, the confident you, the you who wandered freely.
I was lucky enough for my baby blues to pass quite quickly. I truly believe that years of self-reflection and healing helped pull me out of a potentially dark place early on. Knowing what would bring me back to myself wasn’t just helpful — it was an essential survival tool. And I’ll be forever grateful to my past self for doing the work before my second bubba arrived.
Because here’s the truth: finding yourself again after motherhood isn’t some big cinematic moment. There’s no movie montage where you rediscover your “old self” while the music swells and everything falls into place. It’s quieter than that. Slower. More like a gentle remembering.
For me, it started with movement. Nothing fancy — just slow walks outside, one foot in front of the other, usually with the baby strapped to my chest. Feeling the sunshine on my face, listening to the trees whisper in the wind… those tiny moments were breadcrumbs leading me home. Nature truly heals, tell me I’m wrong.
Then came the baby steps (pun intended). Dusting off the yoga mat and stretching deeply in ways I couldn’t while pregnant. Being kind to myself. Drinking more water than I thought humanly possible and fuelling my body with real, nourishing food. Using snippets of time to do small things that spoke to my soul — a hot bath, a little home pamper, or a good old wardrobe clear-out. A reset.
And then… I started to wake up.
Probably because dancing to drum and bass in the kitchen at 7 a.m. shook something loose in my soul and reminded me I was not small — I was BIG. I remembered who I was: the chatterbox, the bouncy ball of weirdness, the loving, feels-too-much, loves-too-hard, wonderful human with a lust for life and everything in it. I was a mum, yes — not a regular mum, a cool mum (IYKYK), but I was also a human being, navigating life on this floating rock in space that we call Earth.
And let’s talk about support — because having a partner who actually shows up makes a world of difference. I’m lucky enough to have someone who lets me be my messy, emotional, beautifully exhausted self without judgment. Letting me ugly cry for no reason and then passing me a plate of food is top tier relationship goals (just saying). Not everyone has that, and it breaks my heart that some mothers walk this road feeling alone — I did once.
But I do believe finding someone — whether it’s a friend, a sibling, a parent, or another mum who just gets it — is essential. Someone you can rely on, who makes you feel seen, who reminds you that you’re still you beneath the motherhood.
Because that’s the real magic of it all — realising you’re not trying to get “back” to who you were. You’re meeting a new version of yourself: softer yet stronger, stretched in every sense, but somehow more whole. Never apologise for who you are or who you are becoming. We change and grow with every season in life. If you resurface as a different you after becoming a mum, that’s ok! You might find a different you, a better you. Just as long as you feel comfortable and happy in your own skin, that’s all that matters. Stay true to yourself. It doesn’t have to make sense. None of it does. You just have to remember that every day is a new day and you’ll find yourself along the way.
So if you’re somewhere in that hazy fog, trying to remember who you are beneath the nappies, the sore body, the cold coffee, and the emotional rollercoaster that is motherhood — just know this: she’s still there. You’re still there. You’ll find her again — one home-cooked meal, one walk in the sunshine, one filthy drum and bass track, and one honest cry at a time.
I got you girl 🫂💓
Mamas life adventures 