The Mama Perspective | Motherhood and Maternal Wellbeing

A space for real stories, shared experiences and modern motherhood.

The voice behind the blog

Natasha is a mum of two little boys and the voice behind The Mama Perspective. Passionate about maternal mental health and self-care, she writes honestly about the highs, lows, and healing moments of motherhood.
  • Who Am I Outside of ‘Mum’? 

    Who Am I Outside of ‘Mum’? 

    Feeling like you’ve lost your identity after having children is a completely normal part of matrescence. This post explores why maternal burnout happens and shares three realistic, micro-actions busy mums can take to reclaim their sense of self outside of parenting.

    It was a little while ago. The kettle was boiling, the kitchen floor was sticky with dropped toast, yoghurt and fruit, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the microwave reflection. I was wearing pyjamas that that were too big on me but I kept them because they still felt comfortable. My hair was in the usual messy bun, well it was a bun as such but there’s go with that. And it hit me that I couldn’t remember the last time I had a conversation that didn’t involve negotiating sleep or snack choices. 

    In that moment between wiping a runny nose and picking up toy cars, it hit me. I love my two boys more than anything. But as I stood there, I realised something else, something as mums, we are rarely allowed to say out loud: I miss me. Other than being their mama/mummy

    When you have two children at such a young age, your days are dictated by a relentless, beautiful, exhausting rhythm. You’ll see your organisation skills mastered, knowing what snack is needed from a little look, chef, and the comforter for wiping tears away. But somewhere in the middle of motherhood, the woman I used to be – the one who had hobbies, an identity I didn’t realise back then that I felt more confident about, had quietly slipped away.

    If you are reading this while hiding in the bathroom to grab a minute to breath or sitting by your sleeping baby, wondering where you went, I want you remember that the time will come when you will focus on you again. Maybe now is that time. It doesn’t make you a bad mum. You are just experiencing the silent shift of matrescence. But as I’ve written about before on my own journey of rediscovering myself in motherhood, maybe finding yourself again doesn’t mean going back to exactly who you used to be – it means learning how all these new versions of you can exist together.

    Why Do I Feel Like I’ve Lost Myself Since Becoming a Mum?

    It is the question so many of us secretly type into search bars late at night or early hours of the morning. Take me for example, wondering if it’s normal to feel lost after having a second baby even though he’s my entire world. 

    When we step into motherhood and especially when we transition from one child to two, our brain chemistry, social life, and daily schedules undergo big changes. Society expects us to absorb the change, smiling through the burnout because we are “blessed.”

    But this couldn’t be further from the truth. There will inevitably be times where mum life feels like a constant battle between surviving or thriving, where everything feels heavy and your mind runs on overdrive keeping track of the endless mental to-do list. This emotional drain isn’t a sign of failure; it’s a symptom of a modern parenting culture that expects mums to give 100% of their identity to their families, leaving 0% for themselves.

    We feel lost because our old markers of identity – our careers, our spontaneous social lives, our uninterrupted thoughts, are suddenly replaced by the needs of tiny humans. We become so many seeing to those needs that we forget how to manage our own happiness outside of being a mum. Reclaiming that happiness doesn’t mean you love your children any less; it means you care about your own survival enough to keep a small piece of you not only for yourself but for them too.

    Redefining “Me Time”

    When we look for advice on how to find ourselves again, the suggestions are often unrealistic. We are told to “book a spa weekend,” “go away for the night,” or “just get more sleep.” But when you are managing a busy household, those massive blocks of free time feel completely out of reach. In fact, trying to plan a massive break often creates more stress and guilt than it relieves.

    Reclaiming your identity isn’t about escaping your kids for an expensive weekend away; it is about keeping a piece of your mind just for you while they are right next to you. It means shifting our perspective away from toxic perfectionism and choosing wellness over perfection. Real self-care is built on small lifestyle habits, not adding more pressure to an already overflowing load.

    Instead of waiting for a perfect window of time that may never come, we need to focus on small changes we can make in our lives.

    3 Realistic Actions to Reclaim Your Identity

    1. Protect a 10-Minute “Non-Mum” Hobby

    You do not need two hours of uninterrupted silence to connect with who you are. You could focus on just ten minutes. Find the time, whether it’s during a nap time, right after the kids go to bed, or even a solo walk to the bus stop on your way to work with your AirPods in and dedicate it entirely to something that has nothing to do with parenting, cleaning etc. 

    • What this looks like for me: writing in a journal or writing a blog post like this one, listening to my favourite playlist, having a cup of tea that stays hot.

    2. Reclaim Your Personal Aesthetic

    It’s so easy to fall into the “default mum uniform” for convenience. When we spend our days in oversized loungewear and messy buns, it can subtly reinforce the feeling that this is how mums are supposed to look. While practical clothing is a necessity for modern parenting, choosing elements of style can provide a massive psychological boost.

    • What this looks like for me: putting on an outfit that makes me feel a bit confident and more girly, even if it’s a day I’m working from home.

    3. Set Cognitive Boundaries in Your Social Life

    As mums, our brains run on overdrive making mental notes of everything to tick off. When we finally get a chance to interact with other adults, we often default to talking exclusively about our children – their sleep, their milestones, or their recent bump to the head (does it ever end?). While this is natural, it keeps our minds locked in “mum mode.”

    • The Practice: ask questions and share thoughts that are completely unrelated to motherhood. Talk about a show you just watched, a career goal you are thinking about, or resort to food (that’s one of my favourites). Give your brain permission to step outside the typical mum conversations.

    Here are some FAQs about maternal identity…

    Why do mums lose their identity after having children?

    Mothers often experience a loss of identity due to a psychological transition called matrescence. During this shift, a mother’s daily schedule, cognitive load, and brain chemistry change rapidly, often causing her pre-mum self to be taken away by the daily never ending role of looking after her children.

    Is it normal to feel lost after having a second baby?

    I can say from my experience, yes, it is entirely normal to feel lost, overwhelmed, or isolated after having a second child. Moving from one child to two splits your time and attention, which for me increased maternal guilt and leaves almost no room for personal time or your own hobbies. You freeze out the option to consider new hobbies too. 

    How can a busy mum find herself again?

    A busy mum can reclaim her identity by practicing small habits rather than waiting for large blocks of free time. This could be dedicating 10 minutes a day to a non-parenting hobby, switching off from work, setting firm cognitive boundaries around family scheduling, and wearing clothes that reflect her personal style rather than a “mum mode activated” look. 

  • Five Years of Motherhood

    Five Years of Motherhood

    My first baby has turned five. Five years old. It feels crazy to say those words out loud because, in so many ways, I can still picture the tiny newborn I held in my arms for the very first time. Or even before then, the first baby I carried and gave birth to. He’s the little boy who made me a mum. The one who changed my world in an instant.

    But somehow, here we are. He’s no longer that sleepy newborn or toddler clinging to my legs. He’s a confident, funny, kind-hearted little boy with the biggest imagination, endless questions about the world and a personality that shines brighter every single day.

    As I celebrate his fifth birthday, I’m also celebrating something that feels just as significant – five years of motherhood. For the two of us, it’s been five years of learning. Five years of growing. Five years of discovering that motherhood isn’t about having all the answers; it’s about learning alongside your children.

    When I became a mum, I thought I was preparing for him to grow. I didn’t realise how much I would grow too.

    Motherhood has stretched me in every possible way. It has taught me patience on the days I felt I had none left. It has shown me strength during the moments I doubted myself. It has reminded me that perfection doesn’t exist, and that love, consistency and showing up every day matter more.

    There have been sleepless nights that felt endless, first words that made my heart burst, lots of scraped knees and bumped heads, nursery drop-offs, bedtime cuddles, family adventures and ordinary afternoons that I didn’t know at the time would become some of my favourite memories.

    As a parent, the days often feel long. Yet somehow, these last five years have passed in the blink of an eye.

    One of the biggest changes this year has been watching Freddy embrace being a big brother.

    Before his little brother arrived, I wondered how our family dynamic would change. Would he struggle with sharing us? Would he miss having us all to himself? Instead, he has completely amazed me. He’s protective, caring and endlessly proud of his baby brother. He celebrates every little milestone, tries to make him laugh and is always looking out for him. Watching their relationship begin has been one of the greatest privileges of motherhood.

    Recently, he asked us if he could have bunk beds. Not because he wanted a “big boy” bedroom. Not because he’d seen them somewhere else. But because he wants to share his room with his little brother. My heart completely melted. To him, it wasn’t about the beds at all. It was about wanting his little brother close. Wanting to wake up together, play together and simply share their space.

    It’s such a simple request, but one that says so much about the little person he’s becoming. Kind. Thoughtful. Loving.

    Moments like that remind me that while we spend so much time worrying about whether we’re getting motherhood right, our children are quietly showing us the values they’re learning every single day.

    Of course, I know there will come a time when they’ll want their own rooms, their own space and their own independence. But for now, I want to hold onto this season for as long as I can.

    These early years really are so fleeting.

    As I look back over the last five years, I realise I’ve been growing alongside him.

    Every milestone he’s reached has brought a new chapter for me too.

    His first smile made me a more confident mum. His first day at nursery taught me how to let go, even just a little. His growing independence has challenged me to trust that I’ve given him the foundations he needs.

    And becoming a mum to two has reminded me that love doesn’t divide – it multiplies.

    Now, as I celebrate five years of motherhood, I find myself looking ahead to the next five.

    There will be school years, sports days, friendships, birthday parties, family holidays and countless conversations around the dinner table. There will be moments where they’ll need me less in some ways and more in others.

    There will be challenges I can’t yet imagine and memories waiting to be made.

    I can’t wait to watch my eldest continue to grow into the wonderful boy he already is, while seeing his little brother follow closely behind.

    I can’t wait to watch their bond grow stronger with each passing year.

    To hear their whispered conversations after bedtime. To watch them make mischief together. To see them support each other through life’s ups and downs.

    The first five years have taught me that motherhood isn’t measured in the big milestones alone. It’s found in the quiet moments – the bedtime stories, the cuddles after a difficult day, the spontaneous “I love you”, or a little hand to hold.

  • The Parts of Me I Miss While Being Everything to Everyone Else

    The Parts of Me I Miss While Being Everything to Everyone Else

    Motherhood changes you. Everyone tells you that before your baby arrives. They tell you about the sleepless nights, the first smiles, the cuddles, the milestones, and the kind of love you never knew existed.

    What they don’t always tell you is that somewhere amongst all of that, you might lose sight of yourself.

    Not all at once, just slowly. So slowly that one day you realise you can’t remember the last time you did something simply because you wanted to. You can’t remember the last time you finished a cup of tea while it was still warm, watched a programme without interruption, or sat in silence without your mind racing through tomorrow’s to-do list.

    Motherhood doesn’t just become part of your identity. It becomes almost all of it.

    Every morning starts with someone needing you before you’ve even had a chance to wake up properly. Tiny voices calling your name. Breakfast to make. Clothes to find. Lunches to pack. Nappies to change. Arguments to settle. Endless washing. Endless tidying. Endless reminders.

    And somehow, in between all of that, you’re expected to remember birthdays, book appointments, school events, make memories, stay patient, look after yourself, maintain relationships, work if you have a job, and still smile when someone asks how you’re doing.

    It’s a lot. There’s no clocking off from motherhood. Even when the children are asleep, your mind isn’t. You’re thinking about tomorrow, worrying if they’re eating enough, wondering if they’re happy, replaying conversations, folding washing, answering messages you’ve ignored all day, and trying to catch your breath before it all starts again.

    Sometimes I catch my reflection and wonder when I started looking so tired.

    Not just physically but emotionally and mentally too. There are days when I feel like I’ve spent every ounce of myself making sure everyone else is okay, only to realise I haven’t asked myself that same question.

    Am I okay? The truth is, I don’t always know. I love my children more than I could ever put into words. They are the greatest joy of my life. But loving motherhood doesn’t mean every part of it feels easy. Those two things can exist together. I think that’s something we need to say more often.

    Somewhere along the way we’ve created this idea that if you admit motherhood is hard, you’re somehow admitting you’re ungrateful.

    You’re not. You can be deeply grateful for your children while still acknowledging that motherhood asks more of you than you ever imagined.

    You can love every tiny person in your home with your whole heart and still miss the woman you were before everyone needed a piece of you.

    I miss the version of me who had hobbies that didn’t just involve cleaning. The version of me who could make plans and not feel guilty about it, and had thoughts that weren’t constantly interrupted by someone asking for a snack.

    I even miss the little things. Listening to music without someone talking over it. Having a shower without hearing cries or chaos Walking through a supermarket without rushing because someone is tired, hungry or sitting in the trolley asking how much longer.

    These things sound so small until they’re no longer yours. Motherhood is made up of thousands of invisible moments that nobody applauds. The mental lists. The emotional toll.

    It’s carrying the weight of an entire household inside your head while pretending it’s all manageable. And because so much of it is invisible, it can feel lonely. People see the smiling family photos. They don’t see the mum who stayed awake worrying. They don’t see the tears cried in the bathroom after everyone has gone to bed.

    They don’t see the exhaustion that reaches deeper than needing one good night’s sleep. Sometimes what I crave isn’t a weekend away or an expensive spa day. Sometimes I just want half an hour where nobody needs anything from me. No questions or decisions to be made.

    No one calling my name from another room. Just enough silence to hear my own thoughts again. Because somewhere underneath “Mum” is still me. She’s quieter these days. She doesn’t get as much attention. But she’s still there.

    And I think she deserves to be remembered.

    I don’t believe becoming a mother means we stop being individuals. I think it simply becomes harder to find space for that individual amongst everything motherhood demands.

    Maybe that’s why so many mums feel guilty when they want time alone. We’ve convinced ourselves that good mums should always be available. Always patient. Always grateful. Always giving.

    But no one can pour endlessly from an empty cup. We need rest. We need hobbies.

    We need conversations that aren’t about children. We need moments that remind us we’re still people with dreams, interests, opinions and identities outside of motherhood.

    Looking after ourselves doesn’t take away from our children. It gives them a version of us that isn’t running on empty.

    One day they won’t need me to help put their shoes on or cut up their dinner. One day the constant cries of “Mummy” or “Mama” will become less. One day I’ll probably miss the chaos that currently overwhelms me. But I don’t think that means I have to pretend this part of motherhood isn’t hard while I’m living it.

    Motherhood isn’t one thing. It’s everything. And sometimes, everything all at once.

    So if you’ve been feeling like you’ve disappeared beneath the weight of caring for everyone else, I hope you know you’re not alone.

    You haven’t failed because you’re tired. You haven’t failed because you miss pieces of your old life. You haven’t failed because sometimes you wish someone would look after you for a change.

    You’re carrying one of the biggest, most demanding, and most important roles there is.

    Maybe today is a reminder for you and for me, that we matter too. Not just as mums. Not just as partners. Not just as the ones who hold everything together. But as women. As individuals. As people who deserve care, kindness and space to exist beyond the endless list of things that need doing. Because motherhood should never mean losing yourself completely.

    It should mean growing into someone new while still holding on to the parts of yourself that make you, you.

Anxiety Confidence Family Mental Health Mindset Motherhood Parenthood Parenting Positivity Postpartum Self Esteem Wellness