Good Moms Sacrifice Everything…
People love to say, “good moms sacrifice everything.” And every time I hear it, my eye twitches. Because that’s not noble—it’s marketing for burnout.
Back when I didn’t even want kids, I thought motherhood would be the ultimate sacrifice. Like I’d be forced to give up my old life, my ambitions, my fun, my travel, my quiet mornings. I saw it as a one-way ticket to losing myself. But here’s what I didn’t realize: I wasn’t afraid of kids. I was just exhausted from caregiving.
At that point in my life, I was carrying too many responsibilities for other people—family, work, obligations. I confused that constant drain with what motherhood might feel like. But caregiving and mothering are not the same thing. Caregiving is a duty. Mothering, when you’re actually supported and resourced, is a relationship. Very different energy.
So when I finally stepped into motherhood, I was surprised. It didn’t feel like a subtraction. It felt like an expansion. Yes, everything shifted, but not in the “there goes my life” way I once believed. Instead, it was: there goes my old life, making room for more.
Here’s the reframe:
The “sacrifice” is not you giving up yourself—it’s doing the work to actually know yourself before kids arrive. That’s the unglamorous prep. Figuring out what fills your cup, what drains it, what boundaries you need, and what self-care actually looks like for you. Because your kids deserve to see that modeled.
Motherhood isn’t subtraction, it’s remix. You don’t stop being ambitious, adventurous, or social. You just learn how to integrate those parts of you into this new chapter. (Sometimes clumsily, sometimes brilliantly, but still—you).
Kids don’t need martyrs. They need moms who are rooted, rested, and self-aware enough not to blow up over missing markers or spilled milk. Nobody benefits when mom is fried, resentful, or living like a cautionary tale.
The thing I wish someone told me earlier: being a good mom starts with being good to yourself first. Not in a spa-day cliché way, but in a daily, practical, boundaries-and-honesty way. That’s not selfish—it’s sustainable.
And this is where the “funny” part kicks in: when you actually take care of yourself, your patience lasts longer than your toddler’s attention span. You’re less likely to cry in Target. And you can watch “Bluey” without fantasizing about running away to Mexico. (That’s growth.)
But all jokes aside, this is the mindset shift: the only thing kids really “take” from you is the ability to fake it. They make you confront what’s real—what you need, what you value, what you’ve been putting off. The better you know those things before motherhood, the smoother the ride after.
So, no, I don’t believe good moms sacrifice everything. I believe the real sacrifice happens up front: the hard, unsexy work of figuring out who you are, what you need, and how you’ll protect it. That way, when motherhood expands your life, you don’t lose yourself in the shuffle.
Because the truth is, kids don’t want a mother who gave up everything. They want a mother who knows how to live.
