Motherhood, Identity, and Staying Me

As a 30-year-old (well, 31—but who’s counting?) first-time Black mother, this journey has been both beautifully empowering and deeply reflective. From grappling with my shifting identity to balancing the daily demands of the true CEO of my home (the baby—if you didn’t catch the joke, it’s okay lol), I often find myself thinking about where I’ve grown and where I’m still evolving.

One of the most powerful parts of motherhood is how it forces you to confront the question of identity.

As a Black woman, that question comes layered—with societal expectations, cultural norms, and generational stereotypes about what motherhood should look like and how you should show up in the world. There’s often pressure to appear strong but nurturing, patient but not a pushover.

But the truth is: our identities are not one-size-fits-all. We all have different views, interests, goals, and passions.

Yes, we’ve been given the sacred role of “mother,” but that doesn’t erase the other parts of who we are. If you’re married, you’re also a wife. In a relationship? You might hold the title of girlfriend or partner. But beyond the titles, you are still you—an individual with your own desires, dreams, and needs.

And it’s more than okay to honor those parts of yourself just as much as the one that birthed new life.

Don’t lose yourself.

Being a parent does not mean your ambitions vanish—or that your life gets put on hold.

Stay grounded in who you are, even as you stretch into who you're becoming. You get to shape your own version of motherhood—one that fits your truth, not just the mold handed down to you, or the one you’ve seen on TV or social media.

Honestly, I’m still figuring out what kind of mother I want to be. I just started understanding the kind of woman I want to become. And while Rome wasn’t built in a day, I do sometimes wish there was a book that mapped out every step.

But maybe that would only create more pressure—and take away the freedom to write your own playbook.

My fiancé has been a huge support in helping me find that balance. He makes space for me to care for myself—and sometimes he even has to push me to do it. That “mom cloud” can creep in, making me feel guilty for wanting alone time.

No shade to dads, but they often take that time without blinking. And I can’t help but wonder why that is. Why do we, as moms, feel like we always need to be on the ball? That we can’t cry, feel deeply, be ambitious, or want more from life beyond motherhood?

It’s okay to remember we are still human.

And we deserve time.

Peace.

Space to grow.

So whether your partner nudges you to rest or you’re learning to prioritize yourself on your own, take that time.

Do that thing. Reclaim your space.

Because you’re not just a mother. You're still you—and you deserve to shine, too.

How are you holding space for yourself in the midst of motherhood? What part of you are you learning to rediscover?