Motherhood didn’t come wrapped in picture-perfect joy for me. It’s been messy, healing, and sometimes triggering. But every laugh, tantrum, and bedtime story teaches me not only how to mother my daughter—but also how to mother myself.

When I was a kid, my mom could show up for every school trip and PTA meeting. Today, childcare costs alone can feel like a second rent, forcing many working moms into tough trade-offs. This is the reality of parenting in 2025—where guilt, love, and hope all compete for space in our hearts.

We grow up saying we won’t be like our parents. Then we become parents ourselves—and everything shifts. This post explores the moment I realized my mom was just a girl trying her best, and how I’m parenting with more empathy, awareness, and grace to do things differently.

A heartfelt reflection on motherhood and identity from a first-time Black mom navigating societal expectations, selfhood, and finding balance beyond the role of “mother.”