There is a version of motherhood that exists on Instagram, one where every outfit is neutral, every snack is organic and every mum looks as though she woke up glowing and emotionally regulated. Then there is real motherhood, which I am currently living inside, slightly frazzled, deeply in love and clutching a lukewarm coffee while negotiating with a toddler who is furious about having their socks put on.
Motherhood has completely rearranged my life, my priorities and my concept of time. And honestly, I adore it. The chaos, the noise, the unpredictability and the feeling that no two days are ever the same. This is not a phase of tidy routines and colour-coded schedules; this is the thick of it. And while it is relentless, it is also the most grounding and joyful chapter I have ever known.
Falling Headfirst Into Motherhood
I love being a mother in a way that feels cellular. It is not something I perform or curate; it is something I live and breathe, often with crumbs in my hair and food smeared all over my clothes. The lack of routine, which once would have sent me spiralling, now feels oddly freeing. My days are dictated by naps, snacks, sudden emotional collapses over bananas and spontaneous bursts of laughter that make everything else feel irrelevant.
There is a beauty in surrendering to this season rather than fighting it. Accepting that life looks different now, slower in some ways and louder in others. I no longer move through my days with rigid plans, but instead respond to what unfolds in front of me. And in that surrender, I have found a deeper sense of presence than I ever expected. I feel like sometimes I can be rather insuferable to those who know me personally because I see motherhood through rose-tinted glasses. However, we longed for our baby for so many years, and I try to take even the hard days within my stride and find the beautiful moments of seeing our little friend grow into the cheekiest man.
The Fear of Losing Yourself
That said, it would be incredibly easy to disappear into motherhood entirely. To let it consume every corner of my identity until I am introduced only as someone’s mum, my own interests quietly fading into the background. And while there is nothing wrong with that for some, I know myself well enough to know it would leave me quietly unfulfilled.
I am still me. I still love fashion, writing, beauty, design, beautiful things and long conversations over wine that accidentally turn into another bottle. I still want to exist in the world as a woman with opinions, tastes and ambitions that stretch beyond my role as a parent. Wanting that does not make me less devoted; it makes me more whole.
Balancing Motherhood and the Things I Love
Right now, balance feels less like a graceful scale and more like a juggling act performed slightly badly. I am writing between naps, sending emails one-handed and making notes on my phone while supervising block towers. Some days it works beautifully. Other days, nothing gets finished, and that has to be enough, too.
I am learning that balance is not about doing everything every day, but about not abandoning the things that make me feel like myself. Writing on my site might look different now, slower and less polished, but it still matters. Shopping trips with friends are rarer, but they are cherished. Even sitting down with a glass of wine at the end of the day feels like a small but powerful act of self-preservation.
Luxury, Fashion and Staying True to Myself
There is an unspoken narrative that motherhood requires a complete shedding of luxury, indulgence and personal style. As though becoming a mum means trading fashion for function and desire for practicality. I reject that entirely. I can love designer handbags and still pack snacks like a professional. These things are not mutually exclusive.
Staying connected to the fashion space is important to me, not because it defines my worth, but because it brings me joy. I enjoy investing in beautiful things, appreciating craftsmanship and allowing myself moments of indulgence. Doing so does not detract from my motherhood; it enhances it. A fulfilled woman makes a better mother, and I will die on that hill, preferably in good shoes.
The Role of Wine, Mild Dependency and Humour
Let us address the wine. I enjoy it. Possibly more than is strictly necessary. It is not a crutch, but it is a ritual, a signal that the day has softened its grip. A glass poured while tidying toys or collapsing onto the sofa feels like punctuation at the end of a very long sentence.
Humour has become essential to survival. Laughing at the chaos, the exhaustion and the absurdity of it all is what keeps me grounded. Motherhood is intense, but it does not have to be solemn. There is room for sarcasm, for eye rolling, for admitting that some days are hard and others are magical and many are both at once.
Redefining What It Means to Have It All
Having it all no longer means doing everything perfectly. It means doing what matters, imperfectly, with intention. It means loving my child fiercely while still nurturing my own identity. It means allowing myself to change without erasing who I was before.
I am still in the midst of it. Still learning, still adjusting, still figuring out how to honour all the parts of myself. Motherhood has changed me profoundly, but it has not diminished me. If anything, it has clarified what matters and given me permission to pursue joy without apology.
Conclusion: Choosing Wholeness Over Perfection
Motherhood, mayhem and mild wine dependency coexist quite nicely in my life. This season is messy, loud, beautiful and fleeting. I do not want to rush through it or romanticise it beyond recognition. I want to live it honestly, with my heart wide open and my sense of self intact.
I am a mother, yes. But I am also a writer, a fashion lover, a woman who enjoys luxury, friendship and the occasional excessive glass of wine. Striving for balance is not about doing more, it is about remembering who I am while embracing who I am becoming. And right now, that feels like more than enough.
