From corporate baddie to SAHM: an identity crisis in real time
Hey bestie,
Becoming a stay-at-home mom was always the manifestation. That dreamy vision of snuggles and milestones and not missing a thing. But I didn't realize how tough it would be — not just the day-to-day chaos (though, yes, that too), but the massive mental shift. The identity earthquake. Let me rewind a bit for context.
When my maternity leave clock ran out, I felt torn in ways I never anticipated. There I was, still actively breastfeeding, staring down a 2-hour daily commute that would mean 10 hours away from my little one, with zero childcare lined up. It just didn’t add up. The math wasn't mathing. And something in my chest tightened every time I pictured handing over my tiny human when she was still so... tiny.
So I left.
I left the job I got recruited for. I left the job that leveled up my career. I left the job we literally moved states for.
I didn't realize how much of my identity was wrapped up in that title, that email signature, that LinkedIn profile. But it was. And honestly? It still is. I've worked my ass off to become the graphic designer I am today — the late nights, the portfolio building, the constant upskilling, the networking. All those years of hustle.
And then the plot twist: after settling into SAHM life for a while, I looked at my husband and just blurted out, "Maybe this isn't for me." Cue another identity crisis.
So I job hunted — resume polishing, interview prepping, the whole nine yards. And I landed a Creative Manager position! Level up! I was thrilled, thinking I'd solved the equation. A week in, though, something felt... off. But I pushed that feeling down. "Maybe I just need time to adjust to having someone else watch Ellie sometimes," I told myself, while also juggling the days I was watching her and working.
I powered through for about a month, showing up with my game face on. But the truth kept surfacing: this wasn't it either. What I really wanted was to be fully present for Ellie AND make my own schedule. The corporate structure, even in a better role, still felt like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.
But here's the thing: I also worked my ass off to become a mom. My fertility journey stretched across two grueling years, including one ectopic pregnancy, two rounds of Letrozole, and enough emotional whiplash to last a lifetime. This baby was wanted. Dreamed of. Fought for.
So why is it so damn hard to settle into this era? To embrace this new title? And why did I ping-pong between wanting to be fully home and then rushing back to corporate, only to realize that wasn't it either?
Maybe it's society's side-eye. Maybe it's the cliché view of stay-at-home moms (cue the 1950s housewife imagery). Maybe it's my manifesting generator personality that craves multiple projects. Maybe it's the financial comfort of two incomes. Maybe it's the desire to feel like I'm "contributing" in ways our culture actually values.
It's probably all of the above, wrapped in a messy bow of identity crisis.
There's such a stereotype around "stay-at-home mom" that I find myself cringing when I use the #sahm hashtag. But WHY?! It's fucking hard work. I'm doing the hard work. I'm currently reading The Power Pause, and Neha Ruch points out that SAHMs work an average of 96 hours in a week — which would translate to about $186,000 in annual salary. We're putting in the WORK.
Not only that, but we're simultaneously trying to:
Maintain our sense of self
Preserve our individuality
Prioritize our health
Nurture our adult relationships
Remember our own names
All while doing a full-time job with unpaid overtime, no sick days, and definitely no bathroom breaks.
The real talk? I've been trying to be the most present mother while also squeezing work into every precious nap time minute — running Second, hunting freelance clients, creating content, responding to texts, the whole circus. And then wondering why I'm exhausted to my bones. Mystery solved: I’m juggling multiple endeavors while trying to keep a tiny human alive. No wonder I’m tired.
After that corporate boomerang moment — leaving, returning, and leaving again — I've realized something important: maybe the either/or framework is the problem. Perhaps it's not about choosing between being a badass professional OR a present mom, but finding a third option that honors both parts of me.
All this to say... if you also feel like you're clinging tightly to your pre-mom identity, you are not alone. But maybe — and I'm talking to myself here too — it's okay to be fully focused on your motherhood journey right now. Maybe this isn't about giving up who you were, but about expanding who you are.
Being home with my daughter, I contribute differently now. I'm there for the firsts and the teary meltdowns. I'm managing our household ecosystem. I'm creating stability in these foundation years. This is what our home needs right now. That doesn't mean it's the universal right way — you absolutely must do what's right for your family, whether that's working full-time, part-time, or dedicating this season to being home.
What I'm slowly learning (emphasis on slowly) is that my worth isn't tied to productivity metrics anymore. And my identity? It's not fixed — it's fluid. It's growing. Just like my little one.
I'd love to hear from you. How are you navigating your identity shifts in motherhood? Reply to this email and let me know I'm not alone in this beautiful mess.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Have you had your own identity crisis in motherhood? Spill it. Seriously, leave a comment — I’d love to hear what you’ve been unlearning, redefining, or reclaiming.
Cheers,
Ari
Your fellow mom who gets it
