Mothers Can Achieve Their Dreams Too

Sincerely, someone who refuses to buy into the sacrificial motherhood narrative

The seed for this post was planted months ago, as I read the words of an aspiring mother here on Substack. She wrote how she longed to be a mother, but before she could do so, she had a (pretty extensive) list of accomplishments to achieve prior. Inherently, there’s nothing wrong with this. I think we all have goals we’d like to reach before new priorities begin to shape our lives. However, when the narrative becomes that motherhood is the end of your creativity, your goals, your ambition—the end of you—that’s where the issue lies.

At 22 I became a mother—a title I had always reserved for myself well past the age of 30, believing this was the only socially acceptable timeline. Growing up in the US I was repeatedly shown that you must reach all necessary milestones: graduate from a good university, find a loving partner, build a stable (very successful) career, and then—and only then—was it time to bring a child into the world.

So when I found out I was pregnant with our daughter, with no diploma or stable career to show, it felt like my life was ending before it had even truly begun.

After years of living in France and becoming immersed in its culture, and particularly its approach to motherhood, I’ve started to understand just how deeply this idea of sacrificial motherhood is rooted in American ideology.

It’s a narrative we see all too often: aspiring mothers feeling they must first complete an exhaustive life checklist before “giving up” their identity in the name of motherhood. From career ambitions to passport stamps, motherhood in the U.S. is too often portrayed as the end of personal fulfillment.

Of course, motherhood is a sacrifice—there’s no denying that. But it doesn’t have to be the ultimate sacrifice. The extent to which you “sacrifice”— or rather, shift your priorities— should be entirely dependent on your personal values and desires.

In France, women more consciously protect their identities beyond motherhood. I first noticed this dynamic quietly playing out in my husband’s family before we had children, and when I became pregnant, my step mother gifted me a copy of Bringing Up Bébé, which articulated many of the subtleties I had observed, offering tangible insight into what I had only sensed.

While France offers longer maternity leave than countries like the U.S., many mothers still return to work relatively soon after birth. Staying at home full-time is far less common, in part because the system here is designed to support working parents, with affordable childcare and more favorable parental leave policies.

Do I think the French approach to motherhood is perfect? Definitely not. But I don’t think the American approach I’ve come to know is either.

One of the most common phrases we hear around motherhood and parenthood is, “I’m not ready yet.” But so often, “ready” refers to an unrealistic, hypothetical destination that we’ve built internally based on years of external expectations and conditioning.

Of course, there are real situations when someone truly isn’t ready, like facing major financial instability or navigating a deeply challenging season of life, but for the sake of this piece, I’m focusing on the checklist of “nice-to-haves”— the things we believe will make us whole, complete, or perfectly prepared.

It’s this list we cling to, afraid that if we enter motherhood before achieving our wildest dreams, they’ll remain just that: dreams.

And yet, here I am, writing to you from Paris while in the midst of pursuing one of my biggest dreams, with two little ones in tow. No diploma to my name. No stable career to fall back on.

It’s easy to let parenthood decide for you, especially when you're following the path that’s always been laid out. The quintessential American dream we’re all sold: the (big) house with the yard, the kids in a good neighborhood school, a tight-knit circle of friends with family close by, and the white picket fence (for good measure).

And let me be clear—there’s nothing wrong with that picture if it actually aligns with what you truly want. But for many of us, we don’t dare to imagine something different. There’s this unspoken belief that once you have children, your life is set in stone. As if everything freezes: the place you live, the money you make, the career milestones you’ve reached. Whatever you’ve built up until that point becomes the final version of your life. And from there, you’re expected to get on the hamster wheel of the dream you were sold.

Now I’m not here to preach the whole “girl boss” narrative either. This post isn’t really about chasing professional goals—it’s about choosing yourself. Choosing a version of motherhood that feels fulfilling, energizing, and aligned with who you are. Not subscribing to one extreme or the other, but carving out a path that honors your passions and purpose.

If anything, I hope it serves as a reminder—to all of us who are mothers, and those who hope to be—that we’re allowed to do things differently. That while motherhood is undoubtedly a sacrifice, it doesn’t have to be the sacrifice. That while our energy, work, and capacity may ebb and flow with the seasons, there is always quiet growth happening beneath the surface, regardless of how slow it may seem.

I believe one of the scariest things about becoming a mother, whether for the first time or a mother again, is knowing your entire world is about to be cracked open, but not knowing awaits on the other side. Who awaits on the other side.

Yet when we view this as an evolution of self rather than a sacrificial undoing of who we were ‘before,’ it opens the door to who we’re meant to become.

To my fellow moms who feel like they’re deep in the trenches of motherhood— who hold dreams close to their heart but keep putting them aside because the timing never feels right— I encourage you to start listening to those dreams again, even in the smallest of ways. Dare to believe in them. Dare to begin turning them into reality, no matter how slowly or how many baby steps it takes to get there.

To the aspiring and soon-to-be mothers who feel the pressure to achieve it all before you’re “ready,” I hope this serves as both evidence and a (completely unnecessary but perhaps helpful) permission slip to loosen your grip on that never-ending checklist. Let your identity, your goals, and your vision beautifully blossom in ways you never could have imagined before.

Sincerely,

A mom who’s very much still figuring it out, but choosing to prioritize her dreams along the way.