New motherhood is a journey of self-discovery. And by no means do I claim to know it all. In fact, the older I get, the more I realize I don’t really know anything. But I have started to notice a few positive patterns emerging in my life since becoming a mom—and here are three of them.
First, I’m turning my back on perfectionism.
I no longer feel like I need a spotless house. I no longer feel like I need more stuff. When I had my daughter, I was introduced to a kind of love I had never felt before—the purest form of love I think we can experience as humans. And somehow, both slowly and all at once, it made me realize that all the extra noise we fill our minds (and our Pinterest boards) with… doesn’t actually matter.
It’s just distraction. A way to cope.
I’m a recovering perfectionist, and for a long time I used perfection as a shield—thinking if I could just do everything right or be perfect in my interactions, I could avoid feelings like shame or pain. But that’s not real life. It’s a setup for failure.
Motherhood triggered that perfectionism in me—but it also forced me to confront it. I couldn’t carry the weight of perfectionism and fully embrace the beauty of motherhood at the same time. Something had to give.
So now, I’m choosing what actually matters. Real relationships. Less stuff. Leaving the dishes in the sink sometimes. The more bullsh*t I cut out, the more space I have for what’s real.
Second, I view money differently.
Kids are not cheap. And if I’m not careful, I can easily fall into the trap of buying a new set of cute onesies every time my daughter sizes up. There are the obvious expenses—car seats, formula, doctor visits—but also the sneaky ones: pool toys, stroller fans, teething popsicles. It adds up fast.
Lately, I’ve started thinking about money the same way I think about calories. It’s easy to spend and hard to earn back. You can drop $10, $20, $50 without thinking—but it can take hours of work to make $200. The ratio doesn’t always make sense.
And let’s be real—it’s 2026. Inflation is wild.
Being responsible for my daughter has made me want more control over where my money goes. I’m taking that control back. I’m spending with intention. I’m buying secondhand when I can. Because at the end of the day, it’s not about having more—it’s about being smarter with what I have.
And third, I’m doing more things that scare me.
I don’t want my daughter to grow up paralyzed by fear. I want her to understand that scary things are a part of life—and that we can still choose courage anyway. But I can’t teach her that if I’m not living it myself.
Growth doesn’t happen in comfort. It happens when we push ourselves.
The other day, my new mom friend across the street invited me over for a playdate. And honestly? That kind of thing terrifies me. I’m a true introvert. My first instinct was to curl up in a corner and avoid it completely.
It’s not that I’m antisocial—I can be outgoing when I need to be—but it takes a lot out of me. I need time alone to recharge. So the idea of a vulnerable, get-to-know-you playdate felt like a lot.
But I went anyway.
Because I knew I needed to. For my own growth, and honestly, to start building a community. And you know what? It was great. Not awkward. Not overwhelming. Just… easy. My daughter got to interact with another baby, and I stepped outside of my comfort zone.
Win-win.
Motherhood is stretching me in ways I didn’t expect—but maybe that’s the point. Maybe it’s not about having it all figured out. Maybe it’s about letting it change you.
The Honest Mom Project 
Leave a comment