The Joy in Growth
Letting My Family Grow Up, Letting Myself Grow Too.
Listen to the essay:
My oldest will be 18 next week. My middle kiddo turns 8 in January. And Maxi, the baby, just turned 6. She will be my last child.
For a long time, I didn’t know how to articulate the deep shift happening inside me—the one moving me out of the season of babies and into a season of becoming more than a mother. I’ll never forget a woman once saying to me, “It’s okay to let your family grow up.” Something in my chest unlocked when I heard that. It was permission I didn’t even realize I needed.
Because for years, motherhood framed every part of my identity. I was feeding someone, rocking someone, teaching someone, comforting someone, scheduling someone’s life down to the minute. I was carrying the emotional landscape of a household while also carrying my own dreams, fears, joys, and the thousand tiny evolutions that happen below the surface in a woman’s life.
Her words reminded me of this:
Being a devoted mother doesn’t mean I have to stay who I was when my children were small. I am a woman outside of them. They are their own outside of me.
I’ve been a mother since I was 18—just a kid having a kid. Maybe that’s why I feel so tender these days, knowing my oldest is about to reach the very age I was when I first held her. For half of my adult life, I’ve been caring for someone intensely, intentionally, and with my whole heart. And now, as I watch my children grow, I can feel something elevate and shift inside of me. The yearning for more babies has vanished. My family feels, and is, complete.
Instead of grieving that truth, I find myself celebrating it. There is a sacred joy in acknowledging when a chapter has closed, and an even deeper freedom in realizing you are allowed—not obligated—to step into the next one with gratitude, openness, and excitement.
Here’s the deeper truth I’m sitting with these days:
Motherhood shaped me, but it does not confine me.
When we talk about womanhood, we rarely talk about autonomy. We rarely talk about how easy it is to lose yourself in the roles you play in other people’s lives. How quickly you can morph into caretaker, peacemaker, planner, healer, fixer—and how rarely you are encouraged to unclench your hands and ask, “Who am I outside of all of this?” I want my daughters to see me answer that question honestly.
I want them to know that they are more than the roles they will someday play. More than what they give. More than who they support. More than how useful they are to others. I want them to see a mother who tends to herself with the same devotion she pours into everyone else.
A mother who makes decisions rooted in self-respect.
A woman who trusts herself deeply.
Someone who knows when it’s time to hold on and when it’s time to release.
Someone who allows joy to be a guiding force—not an afterthought.
Standing here on this side of motherhood, with my children growing faster than I ever imagined, I’m learning something important: letting your family grow up is also an invitation to grow yourself. To stretch into new desires. To reclaim your time. To explore who you are with all the layers of caregiving, sacrifice, and survival gently peeled back.
It doesn’t mean you love your children any less.
It means you finally love yourself enough to make room for your becoming.
This is the part of the journey no one prepares you for—the transformation that happens once the chaos of early childhood fades. You begin to see your life not just as something you’re managing, but as something you’re allowed to enjoy. You start hearing your own voice again. You start imagining what fullness looks like outside of motherhood. And if you’re lucky, you begin to answer the call.
That’s where I am now. Rooted in gratitude, anchored in joy, and taking my next steps from a place of clarity rather than fear. My babies are growing up—and so am I.
What a journey it has been to raise them.
What a journey it is to return to myself.
And what a blessing it is to know, deep in my bones, that both things can be true at the same time.
Tears are flowing,this is so good, thank you ❤️ With my babies nearing adulthood, one turning 18 soon also, what you said about not just managing our lives but that we're allowed to enjoy them is bringing on tears of release 💖 Everything you said about women and autonomy, I feel deeply. I am joyful watching my boys become kind and capable young men. My connection with them & transitioning into less 'parenting' and more guidance and support as they make important decisions, actually feels really good. What's harder...who I'm growing into?, what do I want and need?, these are questions I felt I was never allowed to entertain in my childhood or beyond. In my 50s now, answering these questions and enjoying my life, this is my becoming 💖
So beautiful! This brought me so much joy to read