There was a season of my life when everything felt like a race I never signed up for. I was a corporate mom trying to juggle deadlines, daycare pickups, and the endless mental load that comes with motherhood. Every morning felt like a sprint out the door, and every night I collapsed into bed feeling like I’d given everyone everything—except myself.
For a while, I convinced myself this was just what motherhood looked like. Exhaustion. Hustle. Survival mode.
But life has a way of nudging us toward what we truly need, even when we don’t recognize it right away. My nudge came in the form of burnout—quiet at first, then loud enough that I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
Stepping Back to Breathe
Leaving corporate to become a stay-at-home mom wasn’t something I planned. It felt like stepping off a moving train and not knowing where my feet would land. For the first time in a long time, the noise faded. But in the quiet, I had to face parts of myself I hadn’t checked in with for years.
I learned quickly that staying home with little ones is still work—just a different kind of demanding. I no longer had back-to-back meetings, but I had meltdowns and messes and a little tribe depending on me every second. And without the structure of my old life, I had to rebuild myself from the inside out.
That’s when self-care stopped being a buzzword and started becoming a lifeline (This was when MommyWithAGoal was born).
Finding Myself in the Small Moments
I didn’t have a roadmap. What I had were tiny opportunities—five minutes of quiet, a walk around the block, a cup of tea I actually finished. These little pockets of peace reminded me that I was still a person outside of motherhood.
I started asking questions I hadn’t asked in years:
What do I love? What fills my cup? What kind of life do I want to model for my kids?
Slowly, I discovered a different side of me—one that craved intention, slow moments, connection, and alignment. I realized survival mode had been running the show for too long, and I deserved to live with more purpose than just getting through the day.
Grit I Didn’t Know I Had
People talk about grit like it’s something you build through big milestones, but motherhood taught me it’s formed in the unseen moments—when you’re tired but still show up, when you reinvent yourself because life demands it, when you choose growth even in the mess.
There were days I questioned myself. Days I felt behind. Days I compared my journey to everyone else’s. But every struggle softened me and strengthened me at the same time. I didn’t realize how resilient I truly was until life required me to be.
Returning to Corporate—On My Terms
Eventually, the time came for me to step back into the working world—but this time, I did it differently. Working from home allows me to blend the parts of me I used to keep separate: the professional, the mother, the creative, the woman with dreams beyond her to-do list.
The difference now is intention.
I don’t move through my days trying to prove anything. I don’t chase validation or perfection. I build a life that feels aligned with my values—presence, connection, flexibility, and purpose.
The Heart of My Journey
Looking back, I see a mom who was doing her best with what she knew. But I also see a woman who grew through every pivot—corporate life, stay-at-home life, and now this new chapter of working from home.
Each season taught me something:
- Corporate taught me discipline and drive.
- Staying home taught me emotional strength and self-awareness.
- Intentional living taught me that my well-being matters.
- Working from home taught me that I can create a life that honors all sides of me.
I’m stronger, softer, and more grounded than I ever imagined. And the most beautiful part? I’m still evolving.
If you’re reading this in your own season of survival mode, I hope you know this:
You’re not failing. You’re growing. And life has a way of guiding you toward the version of yourself you’re meant to meet.
One intentional step at a time.
This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’
hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla.
