Who Am I Now? The Quiet Identity Loss of Motherhood

Before I became a mum, I had a name.

I had a job title. A calendar full of brunches and after-work drinks. Hobbies that filled my weekends. Clothes that made me feel powerful. Conversations that went deeper than sleep regressions, school lunches, and snack negotiations. I had a sense of self, an inner compass that felt steady.

And then, somewhere between the contractions and the sleepless nights, the meal prep and the constant worry, I lost her.

I became Mum.

A beautiful title, yes. Sacred even. But I didn’t expect how heavy it would be to carry that name and lose my own in the process.

The Disappearing Act

No one tells you that when you become a mother, the world starts to see you only through that lens. It’s not intentional, but slowly, subtly, the parts of you that existed before begin to dissolve.

People stop asking how you are—they ask how the baby is.

Your accomplishments shift from promotions and dreams to surviving another week without a breakdown.

You become so needed that your needs slip to the very bottom of the list, below the dog’s vet appointment and remembering to buy more bananas.

I didn’t notice it right away, in fact I didn't notice it until I began training as a counsellor at the age of 40. It crept in with the small things: skipping makeup because there wasn’t time, shelving my favourite books because I couldn’t concentrate, postponing that weekend class I always wanted to take. Soon, I stopped even remembering what I liked to do.

I’d wake up, look in the mirror, and not quite recognise the tired woman staring back.

Mourning the Old Me

There is grief in motherhood. Not just the grief of letting go as your child grows, but the quiet, private grief of losing the version of yourself that you once were.

And no one talks about it.

Because we’re supposed to be grateful. We’re supposed to love every moment. We’re told that this is “the most important job in the world”—and it is. But it doesn’t mean we don’t miss ourselves.

I miss her.

I miss the woman who had unbroken thoughts, uninterrupted coffee, and spontaneous plans.

I miss being me—not just mum.

Finding My Way Back

The truth is, motherhood changes you. That’s inevitable. But maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t have to erase you.

Maybe identity in motherhood isn’t about reclaiming the old version of yourself, but meeting the new woman you’ve become. With time, I’ve started to make space for her.

I go for walks alone, with no destination—just headphones and my thoughts.

I’ve picked up my journal again. It’s messy, half-finished sentences, but it’s mine.

I ask for help when I need it, and I’m learning to say no to things that drain me.

Sometimes I even look in the mirror and recognise her again—the spark, the smile, the softness and strength all at once.

To the Mum Who Feels Lost

If you’re reading this and nodding quietly, I want you to know: You are not alone. You are not selfish for missing yourself. You are not ungrateful for feeling stretched thin by the very life you love.

You are still in there.

Maybe buried under piles of washing and self-doubt, but still there. And you are worth finding.

So ask yourself today—not what the kids need, not what your partner needs—but what you need.

And then, lovingly, begin the journey back to you.

Because you’re not just a mum. You’re a whole, beautiful person. And you deserve to take up space too.