Motherhood is… Learning to let go.

One of the first conversations I had about motherhood, after becoming a mother, was with my sister. I remember her telling me that motherhood is all about learning to let go.

At the time, as I held my new born, I didn’t quite understand what she meant. I couldn’t imagine letting go - not even a little bit.

But as time passed, I began to understand. And the more time passes, the more it makes sense… the more “letting go” I have to learn to do, on so many levels... levels that are still unravelling. Here are some I know of so far:

Let them fall

I think the first time I truly felt I had to let go was when my daughter started walking. I remember being so scared she would fall. I’d walk behind her with open arms, ready to catch her.

Then a friend said: “It’s okay if she falls. She won’t hurt.” Let’s face it - she wasn’t falling from a great height - barely 30 centimetres. I had to hold myself back and let her go, let her fall, and let her stand back up. Alone.

And she did.

That was an eye-opener. I realised I had to let go for her own good so she could learn.

‍ ‍

Let go of the ‘shoulds’

Looking back on the year that had just passed, I slowly began to realise that, just as I had taken a step back while she was learning to walk, I could have done the same for other things.

I should have let go of the milestone-driven expectations that stressed me out: that a baby should sleep in a pram, that she should remain asleep when I put her down, that she should sleep in her cot, that she should stop wanting a bottle by a certain age.

I compared my baby to others and expected that movie-style moment - when a parent puts the baby in the cot and walks out.

That didn’t happen. Never.

If only I had let those expectations go and accepted that it was okay. Because, looking back, it really was.

*“So now I know, it’s okay if the muffins we bake together look deflated, and not Insta-perfect. Or if the card she made for nanna has a spelling mistake. This is exactly how they should be.”*

Let things be imperfect

Then I also realised. I had entered motherhood with a clear idea of what it should look like. For example, the perfect nursery in creams, beiges, and light pinks. We were still doing up the house, and I felt bad because I hadn’t given my daughter that.

Silly, silly me.

As I realised - in hindsight - how very silly I was being - that lesson stayed with me. Now I know that what she needs most is my presence. Eventually, we decorated her room together and she got to be part of the choices, which was really special. Now, whenever I get a thought about how something should look, I stop myself. I remind myself.

So now I know, it’s okay if the muffins we bake together look deflated, and not Insta-perfect. Or if the card she made for nanna has a spelling mistake. This is exactly how they should be.

Let them take charge

As she grew older, a different, more painful kind of letting go surfaced. For a long time, I felt I knew everything she knew. Every word, every thought - I knew its origin. Then she went to school and started coming home with words, songs, and expressions I didn’t know. It hit me: she has a life beyond me.

The transition from clinging to independence was bittersweet. One day, she wanted me to carry her everywhere, the next she wanted to move away.

With that came learning to stop micromanaging everything for her. For example, I used to pick all her clothes and, for example, design name labels for her school items. One day, when she was about four, she insisted on choosing the labels herself.

Internal panic.

But I let her. She picked a turquoise background, a white unicorn, and pink fonts - colours I would never have chosen. When they arrived, they looked amazing. Lesson learnt.

“As my daughter’s character began to emerge, I was surprised when she didn’t do things the way I would. I had to accept that she is not me - and respect that. I had to learn to let her break away from the “expected” and, why not, break stereotypes.”

Let her make her own mistakes

Learning to let go also means letting responsibility land with her. Her homework is hers, and it’s okay if she makes mistakes. Part of me still itches to fix everything, but I’m learning to step back and let her learn from her own errors.

This may even mean letting her handle an uncomfortable situation on her own: like clashes with friends or issues with teachers. It is so tempting to step in – email the teacher, speak to the friend’s mum. But, the truth is, she needs to learn to handle the uncomfortable parts of life. And I need to let it go.

‍ ‍

Let them be themselves

There is another level of letting go that runs throughout: releasing the expectations we set for our children and for ourselves. As my daughter’s character began to emerge, I was surprised when she didn’t do things the way I would. I had to accept that she is not me - and respect that. I had to learn to let her break away from the “expected” and, why not, break stereotypes.

‍Now I even learn from her. The other day, I asked her how she manages not to cry when she needs to but doesn’t want to, and she told me her trick. Sorry... I can’t share it. You’d need to ask her.

*“As parents, we need to “let go” of the rigid schedules, the need “to do everything” in a day, at a set time of that day… These are acts of compassion toward ourself and our child.”*

Let go of strict time schedules

Time is a big one. It changes in motherhood: it stretches and compresses in ways I didn’t expect.

Mornings can feel like they fly by. Evenings can feel endless. Children operate in a different time zone - five minutes can feel like an hour to them. As parents, we need to “let go” of the rigid schedules, the need “to do everything” in a day (like have a spotless house, in between juggling work, parenting and everything in between), at a set time of that day.

This can include letting go of strict bedtimes when extracurriculars and homework push the evening later. These are acts of compassion toward ourself and our child. We do what we can. That is enough. ‍

Then there is letting go of the day as you planned it. How many times have I planned to do something in the afternoon, while she is at an extracurricular, only to have it knocked off the list by some school-related or gift-related errand?

Or the times I finally planned the lunch with a friend or colleague, only to be called by the school nurse – pick up the child because she is sick... or worse... head lice.

‍ ‍

Let go of who you were

Then there are expectations we place on ourselves. There is so much pressure to do it all: be a good parent, a good partner, have a career and build your dream. But a dream need not happen now. It need not happen fast. And that has taken me time to learn. My dream - to build Woman Unclouded - is happening slowly, and that’s fine.

Motherhood also asks you to let go of parts of who you once were. I changed a lot. Things that never worried me before, now do. My brain plans differently. I sometimes pick clothes to wear depending on the colour of the next laundry load - to make my life easier.

I forget things more often. My priorities shifted, as did the hours I put into paid work and the income I earn. This has contributed to a shift in who I am. It’s okay - this is my unfolding. I need to give my child the space to do the same by letting go when I need to.

‍ ‍* * *

There are many levels to letting go, and I am still discovering more. Letting go is not a single act but an ongoing practice: small releases that create room for growth, presence, and connection.

I think the hardest part, at this point in my journey, is coming to the realisation that when we are younger and imagining becoming a mother, we imagine being a mother to a small child. But that child grows... just as we grew... and the person that child grows into needs room to grow and learn.

But it’s hard to let go of the idea of having a small child. Because it comes with realising that we are ageing... that youth is not eternal... and that too takes some letting go. But that’s a subject for another time.