38 Reflections on Motherhood: Losing Yourself and Finding Yourself Again

From stepmom to mother of three—what I’ve learned, unlearned, and come to hold sacred.

Fifteen years ago, I stepped into motherhood through the side door.
I became a stepmom before I became a mom. I didn’t know then how significant that would be. That loving a child you didn’t birth would teach me just how expansive the heart can be. That showing up, again and again, quietly and imperfectly, is mothering.

Almost nine years ago, I gave birth for the first time. And then again, five years later. Somewhere between those milestones, I learned that the story of motherhood isn’t one long, linear chapter. It’s a mosaic of moments. Some loud and messy. Some impossibly quiet. Some that make you feel like you're flying. And others that bring you to your knees.

This week I turn 38. And instead of a party or a list of goals, I want to offer this. A reflection. A reckoning. A little trail of breadcrumbs for the women who might be walking a path like mine, especially if you’re in the thick of finding yourself in motherhood after seasons of feeling lost.

Here are 38 lessons I’ve gathered along the way.

1. You can love a child you didn’t birth just as fiercely.
Presence builds connection. Not DNA. Love is a daily choice, not a title.

2. Your first baby will teach you everything and nothing all at once.
No book or advice column can prepare you for the sacred chaos of it.

3. Motherhood doesn’t begin in the delivery room.
It begins in the moments you start protecting and loving someone in ways that change you.

4. The second baby doesn’t get a more “experienced” mom, just a different one.
You soften where you once were rigid. You notice what you missed the first time.

5. You are allowed to grieve while you grow.
Both can live in the same body. And often do.

6. You don’t have to love every minute.
That’s not failure. That’s honesty.

7. Asking for help is mothering.
It teaches your kids that needing others isn’t weakness, it’s wisdom.

8. You’ll feel lonely sometimes. Even in a full house.
It’s okay to name that.

9. Routines will save you.
Not because they control your life, but because they hold you when everything else feels messy.

10. The body remembers.
The births, the losses, the surgeries, the sleepless nights. Be gentle with it.

11. Chronic illness changes how you mother.
Crohn’s has taught me to listen closer, slow down sooner, and let go more often.

12. You can forgive yourself for who you were when you didn’t know better.
She was trying. She still deserves love.

13. The most important thing isn’t being the best mom.
It’s being a safe place.

14. You will break. Then rebuild. Again and again.
That’s the rhythm of this role.

15. You don’t outgrow motherhood as your kids grow.
It just changes shape.

16. There are seasons for everything.
Closeness, independence, exhaustion, joy. Let them be what they are.

17. Taking photos isn’t just for memories.
It’s proof that you were there too.

18. You don’t have to disappear to be a good mom.
Your needs matter. Your voice matters. You matter.

19. Self-trust grows slowly.
But it’s worth tending to, every day.

20. Motherhood can be sacred and suffocating in the same breath.
You are not broken for feeling both.

21. Rest isn’t a reward.
It’s a requirement.

22. You will miss things.
Sometimes big things. That doesn’t mean you’re not doing enough.

23. Babies don’t keep. But neither do you.
You’re changing too. Honor that.

24. You get to mother the way you want.
Not the way your mom did. Or Instagram says. The way you feel called to.

25. Your partnership matters.
So does your relationship with yourself.

26. Not all advice is meant for you.
You’ll know what’s yours by how your body responds when you hear it.

27. Some days you’ll want to run away.
That doesn’t make you ungrateful. It makes you human.

28. The little things are the big things.
Snacks packed. Hair brushed. Soft hands on sad cheeks.

29. Screen time doesn’t define your worth.
Connection can’t be measured in hours. It lives in moments.

30. Co-sleeping, breastfeeding, being attentive instead of “tough”, these are radical things in a culture that pushes separation.
Keep trusting your instincts.

31. There is beauty in the mundane.
Look closely.

32. You will long for your old self.
And you’ll meet her again, changed, but still you.

33. Your kids don’t need you to be perfect.
They need you to be present.

34. Sometimes, you’ll want someone to mother you.
Let that ache lead you to people who can hold space.

35. You will find yourself in the most unexpected places.
In the way your child says your name. In a photo someone else took of you. In the quiet.

36. There is no finish line.
Only rhythm. Only return.

37. You are allowed to change.
Your dreams, your mind, your boundaries.

38. You are doing better than you think.
Truly.

To the mothers reading—especially the ones trying to find themselves again:

I hope this meets you with softness. Whether you’re just beginning, in the thick of it, or clawing your way back to yourself, I hope you remember that finding yourself in motherhood isn’t selfish. It’s survival. It’s soul work.

As I walk into this next year, I’m holding space for all the versions of me who mothered along the way. The one who wasn’t sure she was doing it right. The one who loved so hard it cracked her open. The one who’s still learning.

Here’s to her.
Here’s to you.
And here’s to all the ways we find ourselves, again and again.

If you're drawn to these reflections, you might also find pieces of yourself in the work I create. I photograph motherhood the way it feels.. honest, intimate, and full of depth.

You can explore more of my work here, where stories like yours take shape in still frames.