i remember the mantras we were raised on- follow your dreams, you can be anything, never settle. these words shaped my life, and honestly, there's so much good in that. i've pursued a career, sought out adventures, explored my own identity in ways that once felt out of reach for women. i value that freedom, deeply.

but then- motherhood hit. and suddenly, it wasn't just about me anymore.

what we were built for

i was raised on empowerment messaging, unprecedented mobility, the idea that fulfilment comes primarily through personal achievement. my focus- and the focus of my peers- shifted from community values to individual aspirations.

and i want to be clear: the gains we've made in autonomy, in career, in choice, are tremendous progress. i would never suggest we go back to limited options or prescribed roles. the ability to define my own path has been liberating.

but from an evolutionary perspective, we've hit a snag. for hundreds of thousands of years, child-rearing was never a solo endeavor- and it was never a woman alone in a room with her babies, either. humans evolved as communal creatures, wired for "alloparenting"- sharing the load of raising the next generation across a wide circle of hands.

that circle wasn't just elders. it was mixed-age groups of women: mothers, aunts, sisters, friends, moving through the day together, working, talking, watching each other's children as a matter of course. babies carried in arms that weren't always their mother's. toddlers running between women of every age and stage, absorbing the ones a few years ahead, offering their own hands to the ones behind. motherhood was never meant to happen behind a closed door. it was meant to happen in public, in company, in motion.

a disconnect of biology and society

my biology hasn't caught up with my social reality. i am still wired for that kind of company, during these intense years- yet i live in a society that isolates mothers in individual homes, expecting us to handle the weight of the world with minimal assistance. so much of the "overwhelm" of motherhood isn't a personal failure- it's the result of doing something humans were never meant to do alone, cut off from the circle we evolved inside of.

the identity earthquake

nothing prepared me for how motherhood would reshape my identity. after decades of me-time, of personal goals, i suddenly had this tiny human whose needs trumped everything.

the shift from my life is mine to my life revolves around someone else, well it's jarring. this feeling isn't new to motherhood itself, but it was never meant to be carried in isolation, either. for most of human history, that shift happened in company- surrounded by other women, in every stage of the same transformation, so no one carried the full weight of it alone.

while i don't want to return to a life of limited choices, there is deep wisdom in seasons of life that require putting others first, a concept our individualistic culture rarely celebrates, but one i've come to see as a form of quiet royalty.

sitting in the tension

the truth is, i don't have the perfect answer for how to bridge this gap. i haven't figured out how to rebuild the village while keeping the independence i spent my whole life cultivating. most days, the pendulum still swings too far- leaving me isolated, in a carefully curated, independent life.

i'm still in the middle of the great disconnect: trying to figure out how to be a self while being a mother, in a world that makes it feel like an either/or.

if motherhood feels harder than you expected, know you aren't failing. you're navigating terrain that was never meant to be walked alone. we're the generation tasked with holding onto hard-won freedom, while rebuilding the circle our biology still expects. it's a heavy, awkward, often lonely transition.