You Want to Work, But You Have to Be a Mom

There’s a specific kind of guilt they don’t put on the baby shower registry.

It’s the guilt of loving your kids with your whole chest — and still wanting something that’s just yours. You want to work. You want to build. You want to see your name become something. And then your little one calls your name from the other room, and the working mom guilt hits like a wave: what kind of mom wants more than this?

If that’s you, I need you to hear something before you read another word. Wanting more than motherhood does not make you a bad mother. It makes you a whole person.

The “you have to be a mom” pressure is real

Nobody says it out loud, but the message is everywhere: your kids should be enough. So when you feel the pull to build a business, chase a dream, or make money from your phone, a voice whispers that you’re being selfish. That you’re taking something from them.

Here’s the truth I had to sit with. My kids don’t need a mom who disappeared into motherhood and lost every other piece of herself. They need a mom who’s alive. A mom who shows them, in real time, what it looks like to want something and go get it.

Reframing the guilt (because it doesn’t just go away)

I’m not going to tell you the guilt vanishes. It doesn’t. But I’ve learned to talk back to it.

“I’m not taking from them — I’m showing them.” Every time my kids see me work, they’re learning that women build things. That’s not a loss for them. That’s a lesson.

“Present is a quality, not a quantity.” I stopped chasing every single minute and started protecting the right minutes. Twenty phone-free minutes fully in it beats three hours of me being physically there and mentally on my phone. My kids can feel the difference. So can I.

“A full-time job plus a business plus motherhood is three full-time jobs.” So if I’m tired, I’m not failing. I’m carrying a genuinely heavy load, and I get to be proud of that instead of ashamed of the exhaustion.

How I actually hold both

I gave up on perfect balance a long time ago. What I do instead is seasons and blocks.

Some days are mom days, and the business waits. Some pockets are work pockets — nap time, after bedtime, the quiet forty-five minutes before the house wakes up — and in those, I let myself work without apologizing to anyone, including myself.

I also let my kids see the real thing. They know Mom is building something. They see the wins and the hard days. One day, they won’t remember a mom who was perfectly available every second. They’ll remember a mom who showed them that a woman can love her family and chase her purpose in the same lifetime.

You are allowed to want both

You don’t have to choose between being a good mom and building something of your own. That was always a false choice.

Be the mom who reads the bedtime story and answers the DMs after. The one who’s fully present at the park and films the Live at noon. Not at the exact same moment — but in the same beautiful, tiring, worth-it life.

You’re not behind. You’re not selfish. You’re building something your kids will one day be proud they watched you do. 🩷

That’s not guilt. That’s a legacy.