Lost.

I Lost Myself After Becoming a Mum. 

It didn’t happen all at once.

It was a quiet shifting. A slow unfolding into someone new, without fully noticing what was being left behind.

I became “mum” in every sense — needed, constant, everything to everyone. And somewhere inside that, I went quiet. Not gone… just softer, further away from myself.

And the truth is — I’ve always been someone who creates.

Long before I created life, I was creating other things. Small things. Beautiful things. Things that brought me joy for no other reason than they felt like me.

Funny how those things sit differently now.

They’re still pretty. Still soft. Still mine in a way.
But they don’t hold the same meaning they once did. They feel lighter now — more like a feeling than a purpose. Like echoes of a version of me I’m still learning how to reconnect with.

For a while, I thought that was just how it had to be.
That this version of me — the one who gives endlessly, who holds everything together — was the final version.

But lately, something has been stirring.

Not loudly. Not all at once.
Just a gentle pull back toward myself.

A thought. A feeling. A quiet knowing that there’s more here.

Not who I used to be — but who I’m becoming now.

Because maybe this isn’t about losing yourself.
Maybe it’s about evolving into someone deeper. Someone who still nurtures, still gives — but also remembers how to exist on her own terms.

Someone who creates again… not to return to the past, but to feel something real in the present.

There’s no big transformation here.
No sudden shift.

Just small moments of choosing myself again.
Little by little.

A quiet rising.

—

Chapter 1

The beginning of coming back to myself — differently this time.

Photo: Me and my first baby Josephine.