Stop.Breathe.Love

As a working mum, I can honestly say:
I’m better at my job now.
But I can’t do it the same way anymore.

For four years, I tried to live like I used to: eight hours of sleep, fourteen hours of work (when I wanted to), freedom to follow every opportunity, get lost in creative flow, salsa on Thursdays, beach yoga on Sundays, reflective coffees with friends, and enough energy left over to foster community connection in my home town.

It was ambitious. Empowered. Energised.

But now?
Superwoman needs a nap.

When I’m not caring for children, clients, my business, my home, my family, and my friends… I just need to go to bed.

I can no longer play to my perfectionist ideals, motherhood burns those out of you.

So I’ve taken off the cape. Hung it up.

What’s left is someone more real. More grounded. More tired.
But also, strangely, more powerful.

Parenthood didn’t just change me.

It humbled me.

It gave me a kind of empathy you don’t read about in leadership books, the kind that feels the silent load parents and carers carry, because now, I carry it too.

I know the exhaustion, the ache, the stretch, the overwhelm.
The moments where tears sneak up behind your confident smile.
The feeling of being pulled in every direction, and still somehow holding it all (barely) together.

I thought I knew what “letting go” meant.
I’m a psychologist; I’ve taught acceptance work for years.

But then came the sleepless nights that didn’t end with infancy.
The sick days. The rearranged meetings. The cancelled plans.
The guilt. The pressure. The impossibility of showing up as I used to.

And so I surrendered.

A deeper kind of surrender than I’ve ever known.
Letting go of control I never really had to begin with.

And strangely, there’s something wildly liberating about that.

It sharpens your focus.
It filters the noise.
And if you let it, it starts a fire…

You begin to burn off what no longer serves you:

• The need to be someone is replaced with space to be yourself.
• The desire to please everyone is replaced with presence for those who truly matter.
• The pressure for perfect meals? Replaced by sandy hummus sandwiches and drippy ice creams on the beach, core memories in the making.

I’ve let go of so many things:
Perfect nails. Immaculate makeup. Always being on time (because: toddlers).
Other people’s expectations. My own unrelenting standards.
Even the algorithms. Let them shift. I’m getting back to having real conversations over real coffee with real humans.

I’m letting myself breathe more now.
And breathing, it turns out, helps a lot.

I know burnout now.
The kind that builds while you keep giving and giving, until one day you realise: there’s nothing left for you.
But you keep going anyway.

So I’m learning something new:
A new level of self-empathy.
A new level of self-love.

I thought I understood these before motherhood.
But becoming a mum propels you into a whole new kind of love — fierce, all-consuming, beautiful… and completely exhausting.

And in that, it becomes so much harder to choose yourself.

But choosing you isn’t selfish. It’s essential.

Even when the house is a mess.
Even when your inbox is weeping.
Even when your child needs you, and they do, often, always, in their own way.

Because if you don’t make space to pause, to breathe, to just be…
Everything else eventually begins to fall apart, at home, at work, and within you.

So now, I take my moments.
To cry. To laugh. To walk.
To remember who I am.

This is my life too.

And through it all, I’m becoming more.

A better mum.
A better leader — because I step back and let others step forward.
A better human — because I’m moving in deeper currents of love, empathy, and real compassion.

But here’s the truth we need to say out loud:

Things have to change.

I can’t coach six clients a day, four days a week, run workshops on the fifth, dash home via the gym, and squeeze in creative projects between dinner, bedtime stories, and sleepless nights — and still be present, emotionally available, and truly connected with my children.

It’s not possible.
Not without something breaking.
Not without me breaking.

And I know I’m not alone.

We — self-employed, employed, business-owning women — can’t keep pretending we’re still operating in the same world as before.

No matter how much support you have, unless someone hands you a fully-functioning, emotionally-stable doppelgänger…

Something’s got to give.

So what does that mean?

For work?
For equality?
For women?

Does it demote us?
Sometimes. That’s the truth no one likes to say out loud.

But maybe we’re looking at it the wrong way.

Maybe it’s not about demotion.
Maybe it’s about redefinition.

What if we stopped trying to prove we can do it exactly the same as before?

What if we chose love first — not as a weakness, but as a radical act of leadership?

What if we allowed for less income, less hustle, less ambition, but more energy, more presence, more real joy?

I’m not saying we go back.
I’m saying we step forward, consciously.
We start building something better.

Not just equality in the workplace —
But equity, empathy, and shared responsibility in the home.

And we do this because we have become empowered woman

Because this is real life.

And if we start from there, maybe we can finally build a world where women don’t have to burn out just to be seen.

A world where real change happens, change that redefines how we work, how we lead, how we live… and how we parent.

Because I know, as a mother and as a psychologist
our children need us to be present and connected.
And our world needs that from us, too.

Our love is our power.

Copyright Antonia Behan 2025