Motherhood wasn’t what I expected.

When I sit down to write a post each month, it’s always for two reasons:
To let you know you’re not alone.
And to let you know there’s hope.

One of my deepest values is to be heard and understood — to be seen. But what I’ve learned is that in order to truly feel understood by others, I had to learn how to listen to myself first. I had to discover who I was, what I wanted, and what I needed.

For so long, “talking about myself” was something I only did with girlfriends — venting sessions about frustrations, motherhood, marriage, life. And while that connection mattered, I noticed something:
I never felt better afterward.

I still had the same life. The same problems.
And now, either my friend offered an opinion that made me feel even worse…
or she validated my pain so much that I felt even more like a powerless victim in an unfair situation.

I knew I needed to talk — to be heard — but I also needed more than a friend.

Motherhood Wasn’t What I Was Told to Expect

Everything shifted after having kids. I’ve shared before how motherhood shook me in ways I did not see coming.

Two pregnancies that nearly broke me.
A motherhood experience no one prepared me for.

Years later, my son was diagnosed with Asperger’s — and suddenly so much made sense. But in those early years, I was mothering without answers, without tools, and without a map. I was exhausted in a way that no nap, no break, no advice could touch. I felt so alone and misunderstood because I wasn’t behaving in the way others needed me to. When in reality I just needed some help. Some relief. Some understanding. Instead, I felt gaslit by those who didn’t understand what being a new mom felt like with the child that I had, and would compare my situation to their perspective.

When I eventually met other moms going through the same thing, I finally felt seen. We connected on the grief that comes when you were told to expect one version of motherhood… and got a completely different one.

It’s not grief because anything is wrong or broken with your child.
It’s grief because you are thrown into a world you never knew you’d have to navigate — with no tools, no warning, and no support. And without the extra physical and mental energy needed. Before motherhood, my unique ways of processing the world around me were manageable becasue I had enough time to take care of myself. After my first baby, I had no time for anything except survival, and the tools I’d put into place to mange the fatigue and mental strain were no longer there.

My entire existence became survival. And yes, defensiveness and self-protection. And I messed up. Badly. With most of my primary relationships.

And then I had my daughter — and suddenly I understood what people meant when they said having kids was fun, sweet, or even joyful.

But I didn’t get to fully enjoy it… because I was still in the trenches with my son — only now at a different age and a different intensity. I was now torn in two, with even less for myself.

It’s been hard. Really hard. I have felt more loss and more grief since becoming a mother than I ever could have anticipated. And I still say loudly: it’s been the best thing that could have happened to me. I look at young woman and encourage them to walk through the same trenches, because living a life that is sacrificial healing and renewal is a life worth living and chasing.

Being a mom has been the most challenging circumstance and the most beautiful gift. Both at the same time. Can you understand how that can be true? That before having life created in my body I saw the world in black and white, but after giving brith and meeting my son I saw in colors… you either get it or you don’t. you’ll either judge me and misunderstand it or you too will finally feel seen and say, “yes! that’s how it was for me too, Molly!”

When Life Feels Too Heavy to Explain

I slowly hermited.
I pulled back from friendships because I didn’t have the energy.

I lost a best friend — because I didn’t have the words or capacity to explain what I was going through. I lost community. My body was breaking down. I was struggling with health issues no one had answers for. I was chronically exhausted, overwhelmed, and sleep deprived.

I was not the mom in cute athleisure taking her kids to the park with a smoothie.
I was the mom in pajamas, serving mac ’n’ cheese for the fifth night in a row, while my husband worked yet another overnight shift.

And the jobs, the relationships, the ways that I reinvented myself in that season… they were survival attempts. They were me trying to feel hope, control, or joy in places that were never designed to provide it.

Here’s what I now know:

When we try to force outside circumstances to create our happiness, we end up more miserable.
Because you cannot outsource your joy to a person, a job, a routine, or a goal.

Peace only comes when you realign with who you are and what you truly want.

And honestly, you can only vent to a friend about the same problem so many times before even you are sick of your own story.

The Turning Point

At just the right time, in the most unexpected way, I found a coach — someone who could really hold space for me, help me understand myself, and guide me out of the fog.

That was in 2022.
And since then, I’ve completely reinvented my life…
not into a new version of me — but into a truer version of me.

Today, I’m living deeply rooted in my purpose as a wife and homeschool mom — supporting my firefighter husband, rasing my kids at home, and honoring the life I actually want to live. I created a way to share this authentic part of my spirit with an instagram account called @ijustneedanapfirst, that follows the rhythms and seasons of a motherhood story that honors the home, the nurturing, the beauty, the work of all of it. And the very human reality that I am a very tired person. To my core. But that life can still be fully lived.

I went back to school, became certified as a Life Coach, and discovered a path that felt natural, meaningful, and aligned with the rhythm of my life. Coaching gave me connection, purpose, and a way to grow — without pulling me away from the home life I see as my number one priority.

I don’t have to perform online or pretend to be someone I’m not.
I don’t have to keep up with a productivity culture that glorifies burnout.
I don’t have to build a life on pressure-filled month-to-month cycles.

I get to talk to women — and I get to help them find themselves again, too.

Why I Write Posts Like This

Because as moms, social sellers, entrepreneurs, teachers, nurturers — we end up taking care of everyone else first. And somewhere in the mix, we get lost.

We start making decisions from pressure, comparison, and survival… instead of desire, joy, and truth.

Our inner voice gets silenced, or outsourced, or ignored.

But I believe this:

You deserve to be heard.
You deserve to know yourself.
You deserve support that doesn’t just validate your pain — but helps you create something new from it.

Motherhood — those early years, those long nights, those confusing and heartbreaking moments — felt like climbing a mountain with no map.

A season of hard: A traumatic pregnancy. A hospitalized baby. Years of grief, confusion, and exhaustion. A personal healing journey as I recovered, saw Dr’s, found answers and truly healed.

But because of that season…

I found myself.

Life, I got it—i just need a nap first

✨Chase more life with me,

Molly @ijustneedanapfirst