We’ve long equated our identities with our professions. So much so that when that professional role is altered or removed for whatever reason, many of us grapple with a sense of lost identity. For mothers, this challenge is compounded by the immense responsibility of childcare, a role that often clashes with professional aspirations. Balancing this duality isn’t just challenging; it’s a constant negotiation that can leave one feeling stretched thin, regardless of employment status.​

Early in our parenting journey, my husband and I recognized that one of us would need to scale back professionally for some time, especially since we come from a nuclear family setup. (That’s a topic worthy of its own blog post.)​

I was the one who took the bait and tried to make it work. I stepped down from my full-time position and was fortunate to secure a part-time, work-from-home role. On paper, it seemed ideal: a flexible manager, WFH position which didn’t require me to come to the office, reduced workload, and the ability to be present during my daughter’s formative years. But the reality was far from the dream.​

The Working-Mom Trap

Despite the remote designation, there were constant travel expectations and unspoken pressures to be physically present in the office. Peers would often make passive remarks about my “privilege” to work from home. What they didn’t see was the pay cut I accepted, the extended hours, or the expectation to be perpetually on call.​

Behind the scenes, my husband frequently adjusted his schedule, often taking leave to ensure our child was cared for when I was called into the office unexpectedly or required to travel. The mental and logistical gymnastics were relentless, all for a role that was supposed to be part-time and remote.​

The Invisible Load

Layered over all this was the unreliability of domestic help; nannies who’d disappear without notice, and the everyday panic of wondering how I’d keep everything afloat with a toddler in the mix.​

I didn’t just want to be home.
I needed to be.​

The cost of chasing a version of “balance” that didn’t exist was too high.​

So, What Did I Do?

I walked away. Not because I lacked ambition or resilience, but because the entire system is not designed to support mothers in the trenches. Flexibility sadly comes at the price of credibility. Working from home translates to being perpetually available, and any attempt to set boundaries is met with skepticism.​

Yes, I’m grappling with my current state of being. While my husband views this period as a break, I identify as a proud stay-at-home mum for now. But the truth is, the sense of identity loss is real. I’ve been working from a very young age, and stepping away from that professional life has left a void that’s hard to articulate.​

Do I miss the old parts of me? Absolutely.
Do I think I’ll return to full-time work someday? Maybe.​

But for now, this is where I find myself. Whether it’s a pause, a pivot, or something else entirely, I’m learning to sit with the uncertainty.​