The Gentle Haven

I didn’t lose myself all at once.

It happened slowly- somewhere between the endless to-do lists, the meals no one noticed, the laundry that never stayed folded, and the constant feeling that someone needed something from me.

I became “mom” before I realized I had stopped being me.

I loved my children deeply, but I felt exhausted, overwhelmed, and quietly grieving a version of myself I couldn’t quite name. And for a long time, I thought that feeling meant I was failing at motherhood.

No one really prepares you for how much motherhood can stretch you. Not just your time or your energy- but your identity.

I kept telling myself, this was my role and duty as a mom to be everything for my children. But even though I wanted to be everything and do everything for them, I still struggled under the weight of the expectations and responsibilities I put on myself. By ignoring my own needs to put them first, I did not succeed at being the best mom ever- I became a burnt-out and exhausted mom.

When my oldest started acting out, I took that as a personal burden. I must have failed her; there must have been something I did wrong. After three years of therapy and behavior programs, she was finally diagnosed with Autism. I was relieved, then instantly guilty for feeling relief that it wasn’t my fault. So, to try to relieve my guilt, I threw myself into trying to help her navigate this world successfully, because I knew it wasn’t going to be kind to her. I kept pouring from my already empty cup to give her everything she could possibly need. Finally, I realized as I was physically giving everything to them, my body was starting to fail me. I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and Hashimoto’s, both of which attacked my body when I was under stress.

I was devastated and felt betrayed by my own body. How could I be strong enough to bring these beautiful babies into this world only to fail them when they needed me most. Then my type A brain went into overdrive and I started to over plan how to manage my flares and still give my family everything. This overhaul only made my health worse.

I didn’t need a survival plan. I needed gentleness. I needed permission to slow down and rebuild my days in a way that supported me, too.

Finding myself again didn’t happen through big changes or dramatic break throughs. It happened in small, quiet ways -through grace-filled routines, letting go of unrealistic expectations, and learning how to care for my home without losing myself inside it.

Here are a few things that helped me begin to come back to myself.

I stopped trying to do everything perfectly. This was especially hard for me. I tied my whole self-worth to the quality of work I put in. If I wasn’t completing 100% everyday perfectly, how was I worthy of earning love? What use was I to my family if they couldn’t rely on me completely? Learning to give myself the same love I gave to my family was a game-changer.

I created gentle rhythms instead of rigid routines. Listening to my body and recognizing what was truly important for my home was important. Some things were non-negotiable, but with others, I could give myself a little more grace.

I made meals easier instead of impressive. I still maintained my love of cooking but I recognized I couldn’t spend hours every day to make one meal. Meal prepping and planning became my cheat code to low-energy meals.

I gave myself permission to be a person again. I started giving myself little moments of quiet. Indulged in reading a book before bed and not for research purposes. I found happiness in gardening and prioritized being outside. Most of all I began naming my needs without shame.

If you feel like you’ve lost yourself in motherhood, I want you to know – you’re not broken, and you’re not alone. You’re still here. Your children are still here. And finding yourself again doesn’t require doing more – it starts with being gentler. The Gentle Haven exists for moms like us – a soft place to land, breathe, and rebuild at a pace that honors both our families and ourselves.