Becoming a mom messed up my feminism

I don’t know what I expected becoming a mother to look like, but I didn’t expect it to feel so unfair.

Jun 27, 2025

Becoming a mother turned my feminism upside down. My husband and I always had an equal partnership where we’d split responsibilities not in gendered ways, but ways that suited us best. I wanted and expected the same for when we became parents, that we would split the work evenly when it came to raising our daughter. But between my physical and hormonal changes, caregiving imbalance (especially in the early days), and mental load I quickly found our partnership lopsided.

I don’t know what I expected becoming a mother to look like, but I didn’t expect it to feel so unfair.

As soon as I gave birth I realized there’s nothing equal in the experience of bringing life into this world and what follows. Through no fault of my feminist husband’s, the burden both physically and emotionally, resoundingly fell on me and that was a hard pill to swallow. I was the one nursing the baby, with an injured tailbone from delivery, and felt an onslaught of hormones racing through my body. I was the one who gained weight and felt uncomfortable in my own skin, the one who took a break from work, and the one woken up at all hours of the night to feed our daughter. (Let the record show, there were many nights when he would wake with me, but I also didn’t see the point in two people being completely exhausted for a job one of us could handle).

It wasn’t just the outward changes, but the inner ones as well. The emotional attachment and unspoken sense of duty I had toward my daughter switched on overnight. Can other mother’s relate to feeling their child’s cry in their body? It’s some visceral response I can’t explain. I don’t know how, but I knew her – and when that maternal instinct kicked in, I found myself quickly jumping in to handle most situations. This lasted for months, if not a year, where the cries my husband could patiently wait out would tear me apart.

With motherhood came an invisible mental load – think of it as an ongoing to-do list. Did we schedule her next vaccine? Which the most sustainable wipes out there? Should I get disposable swim diapers or reusable? Did I pack enough snacks? Should we do baby-led weaning or purees? I mean, the list is never ending. And while my partner and I would talk about most of my daughter’s needs, I found myself tasked with the scheduling, researching, planning, and executing.

Looking back, I realize I’d started building resentment toward my partner then, because there were things he simply could not do or if I’m honest, were easier if I did, even if it took a toll on me. We’d always described ourselves as teammates but becoming new parents had us lost navigating uncharted waters.

Ever since receiving my ADHD diagnosis, I’m able to recognize that I was extra frustrated during this time because my executive functioning was at capacity.

Seeing him return to work was also hard for me. While I was fortunate to receive a very generous six months maternity leave, my partner, who’s self-employed took about a month off then was back to his grind. As I saw him impressively make moves while sleep deprived, I was met with a mix of guilt and envy. For so long we’re taught that working in a way that feeds into American capitalism is where our value is and if I wasn’t producing something (the baby doesn’t count to corporate America), my value felt diminished.

I remember in my first month postpartum, calling up my business partner and telling him I was ready to get back to work building our company since I had some free time. As a father himself, he questioned me and told me to take some more time. I took a beat and realized I was crazy, I didn’t have “extra time,” I was keeping a human alive and stepping into a whole new role as a mom. I didn’t end up calling him back till my maternity leave was over.

A new mom, blissfully unaware of the identity crisis she was in the throws of.

I reflect on that time with a bit of sadness for this lost new mom. I was sitting on a couch with an injured tailbone and a newborn on my chest and thinking, man, I should be doing something productive with my time. Maybe it’s because we’re sold this idea that motherhood isn’t a job or maybe it was my hyperactive ADHD brain finding a new project as per usual, but either way, the doer in me had to chill and focus on Zaia. Seeing that my partner could work and in some ways go about life as usual with a newborn, caused a lot of friction. I was in a trap of comparison that did neither of us any favors.

As I look back, I think the only thing I could have changed was my mindset. I would have embraced a mindset that told me I just did the most incredible thing bringing life into this world and that I had nothing to prove to anyone. I would have told myself that my job is whatever baby girl needs and that’s a privilege I get to fulfill. Because the other thing I can’t deny is that I was able to build the most incredible bond with my daughter that I wouldn’t change for the world. I loved being able to breastfeed her, being able to decipher her cries, and anticipating her needs. I love knowing she knew my heartbeat and my scent. Maybe to ease the growing pains with my husband, we could have spoken more about expectations, but sometimes you really don’t know what to expect until you’re in it.

Almost three and a half years later and I’ve grown so much. I am definitely the parent who plans everything when it comes to my daughter. I plan the extracurricular activities, book the doctor’s appointments, and coordinate with the nanny. I rotate the clothes as she grows, determine the best products for her curly hair, and do most of the morning wake-ups. I’m not going to lie, it took me a while to be okay with taking on a more traditional mom role because I wanted my husband more involved in every process. Time and a million conversations have made me happy with what I have: a partner who provides for the family, is always open to learning and evolving, and can get my daughter to bed in 5 minutes!

I found my perspective start to shift once I was more open with my partner about my needs and we were able to find a system that worked for us. That’s looked like: him handling bedtime most nights, doing wake-ups a couple mornings a week, doing school drop-off, and thankfully no one cleans the kitchen at the end of the day like him. I also changed my perspective and started looking at my role as an active mom as a gift. Raising kids, especially right now, is a radical act of resistance and the fact that I get to help nurture my daughter during this impressionable time is something I don’t take for granted.

So while motherhood initially messed up my feminism, I think I’ve found my sweet spot. My feminism told me we needed everything to be 50/50, but the reality is, our work and contribution will show up in different ways. It told me I needed to continue my corporate status to be considered a badass, but I’ve disproved that to myself time and time again. As long as I’m seen, respected, and appreciated, I’m happy. And I have finally found my way of pursuing my professional endeavors while holding it down in motherhood. That for me, feels like a win.

So tell me, is any of this relatable? Looking back, what advice would you give to your postpartum self?

Becoming a mom messed up my feminism

I don’t know what I expected becoming a mother to look like, but I didn’t expect it to feel so unfair.

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