There are women who spend years studying the body—understanding its rhythms, its reactions, its breaking points—and then there are mothers, who learn that none of that knowledge can fully prepare you for what it feels like to live inside it after everything changes.

Dr. Joyce Park knows both worlds intimately.

As a board-certified dermatologist and the voice behind the blog Tea With MD, she has built a following of hundreds of thousands by translating complex skin science into something women can actually use. Her work is rooted in evidence, clarity and control—the kind that comes from years of training, from knowing what to expect and how to treat it.

Motherhood, of course, doesn’t operate that way.

In this week’s Motherhood Identity Series, Dr. Park pulls back the curtain on what happens when someone whose career is built on understanding the body suddenly feels like a stranger in her own. What unfolds isn’t a polished “bounce back” narrative—it’s something far more honest, and far more familiar.

She talks about the kind of postpartum experience we don’t package into neat timelines, the physical toll that lingers longer than expected, the emotional disorientation of not recognizing yourself in the mirror—even when you intellectually understand exactly what’s happening—and the quiet, unsettling realization that knowledge doesn’t soften the impact when it’s your own body, your own identity, on the line.

What emerges through her reflections is something deeper than skincare or recovery—it’s a reckoning with control. In medicine, there are protocols. In parenting, there are variables you can’t predict, outcomes you can’t guarantee, and a constant negotiation between who you were and who you’re becoming.

Dr. Park doesn’t pretend to have mastered that balance. Instead, she speaks candidly about the ongoing tension—between precision and unpredictability, ambition and presence, expertise and humility. It’s the kind of honesty that lands because it doesn’t try to resolve motherhood into something tidy.

Through Kerativ, her dermatologist-developed hair and scalp care system, that lived experience becomes part of the work itself: an understanding that concerns like hair loss or skin changes aren’t just clinical—they’re emotional, identity-shifting and deeply personal—and that products should support scalp health, care for the hair and promote the appearance of fuller-looking hair without making the routine feel clinical or overwhelming.

There’s a moment in this conversation where she reflects on the version of herself she thought she might never get back. Not just physically, but emotionally—the spark, the energy, the sense of self that once felt so stable. What she’s come to understand instead is something many mothers quietly arrive at on their own: you don’t return to who you were. You become someone else entirely—and learning to recognize her takes time.

What makes this conversation resonate isn’t just Dr. Park’s expertise—it’s her willingness to sit in the gray area. To acknowledge that even when you understand the science, the experience can still undo you. That even when you love being a mother, you can grieve parts of yourself that feel out of reach.

And that finding your way forward isn’t about fixing what changed—but learning how to live inside it.

This one will stay with you.

You spend your days helping people feel confident in their skin—but motherhood has a way of changing how we see ourselves entirely. How, if at all, has becoming a mother shifted your relationship with your own appearance?

Nothing I had encountered in medical training could prepare me for the postpartum period! I had two extremely difficult postpartum recoveries. I couldn’t walk for six weeks after delivery of my first, and I also experienced wound healing complications even beyond that. I struggled to recover from a C-section after my second. I remember looking in the mirror after giving birth after each of my kids and wondering who was that in the mirror looking back at me. I actually couldn’t recognize her.

My hair was falling out like crazy, which I knew would happen from clinical experience, but I was still so unprepared to see clumps of hair every time I brushed. I also had never experienced such bad hormonal cystic acne breakouts as I did during postpartum. It was like the version of me I knew my entire life… disappeared, replaced by a sleep-deprived, emotional zombie who could only muster up the energy to put on a robe everyday. I was worried that I’d never find the sparkly, happy, best version of me again. I really struggled with a loss of identity, and trying to figure out who I was after becoming a Mom.

I loved that I stepped into this new role of Mom, but how do I also hold space for Joyce the dermatologist, Joyce the one who always prioritized career, the Joyce that was one of the first derms on social media, the version of Joyce who is a wife, a sister, a daughter, a good friend?

Now looking back on that time, I have so much empathy for that postpartum version of me. It was SO HARD. Going through that level of hair loss helped me gain even greater empathy for my patients, and that’s a part of what inspired me to found Kerativ, my science-backed, scalp-first haircare brand. For readers interested in the brand, Kerativ’s Redensify Regimen includes the Redensify Treatment Serum and Redensify Reset Shampoo—products designed to support scalp and hair while still feeling elevated to use. I wanted to create effective, clinically validated products that support people when they’re navigating something as stressful as hair shedding or changes in hair fullness, without compromising an inch on a beautiful user experience.

Dermatology is such a precision-driven field. Motherhood… is not. How have you navigated that contrast between control in your career and the unpredictability of parenting?

This has been one of the hardest adjustments for me that honestly I’m still struggling with every single day. In medicine, not just dermatology, you follow a protocol and you expect a certain outcome. In parenting, you can do everything “right” and still have a completely different result. I had to let go of the idea that effort equals outcome. I’ve never been so humbled in my life since becoming a parent! Over time, I’ve learned to focus more on consistency and presence instead of perfection, but It’s still a work in progress.

You’ve built a massive, trusted platform online—one that so many women rely on. Did becoming a mother change what you feel responsible for sharing… or holding back?

Yes, definitely. I feel more protective now. Yes, I made the decision to take my children off of my social media earlier last year, but beyond that, I’ve also become more careful of the tone and impact of what I share. I’m more mindful about not contributing to pressure, especially around postpartum bodies, hair loss, and aging. I still educate, but I try to be very careful about how I frame things so it feels supportive rather than critical. I also dance less than I used to on TikTok! Those videos are still up though, and my kids have more than enough content to be embarrassed of one day when they find them! Haha

There’s so much pressure on moms to “bounce back”—especially in conversations around skin, aging and beauty. As both a dermatologist and a mother, what do you think we’re still getting wrong about postpartum skin and self-image?

We underestimate how long the postpartum period actually lasts. Hormonal shifts, sleep deprivation, stress, nutrient depletion, crazy emotional swings. All of these things affect our appearance for months. Postpartum hair loss is a great example. Telogen effluvium is expected about 3-5 months after childbirth, but when it happens, it still feels alarming. As I mentioned, I remember seeing clumps of hair in the shower and knowing exactly what it was, but still feeling unsettled by it. Going through that level of hair loss helped me gain even greater empathy for my patients, and that’s a part of what inspired me to found Kerativ, my science backed scalp-first haircare brand. I wanted to create effective and clinically validated products that support people when they’re navigating something as stressful as shedding or changes in hair fullness, while not compromising an inch on a beautiful user experience. Hair loss is so emotional, and those going through it deserve a product they enjoy using, because as we know, consistency goes a long way in recovery.

We also frame recovery as something that should happen quickly. In reality, it’s gradual. Your body is recalibrating. I remember scrolling social media and an influencer I followed was posting videos of her dancing 2 weeks postpartum where I couldn’t even get out of bed yet due to intense pain from debilitating injuries from childbirth. I felt horrible watching those videos, wondering how come other moms can bounce back and I can’t? I remember feeling inadequate. But all of our bodies are so different, and we have such unique childbirth experiences. We really can’t compare ourselves to other people.

Was there a moment after becoming a mom where you didn’t feel like yourself anymore? What did finding your way back—or forward—actually look like?

Yes, I touched on this in the first question. It really took time for me to find my way back to myself and understand that I’m still ME…just a new version of me that was a blend of the pre-baby me and the post -baby Mom version of me. Does that make sense? I would say it took a year. The adjustment was HUGE. I’m not just talking about physically looking like me again, with my hair growing back and my skin eventually clearing up, but even emotionally feeling like myself again. It took way longer than I expected.

Your content is rooted in science, but it’s also deeply human. Has motherhood made you softer in how you approach your work, or more direct?

Both in a weird way? Softer in terms of how much empathy I extend to mothers and parents in general. I have more empathy when understanding scheduling difficulties or employees needing to work around their children. But I’ve become more direct when I need to protect my own time; otherwise, if I give so much of my time to everyone else, what’s left for my kids? And myself? I’ve become a lot better and more direct at saying no in order to preserve my own peace.

What’s something about motherhood that no amount of medical training—or even your understanding of the body—could have prepared you for?

The constant mental load! It’s bananas! I understood pregnancy, hormones, postpartum physiology. I knew what telogen effluvium was. I knew why my skin was breaking out. But nothing prepares you for the feeling of always having something in the back of your mind that needs to be done, remembered, planned, anticipated. I’’m always on edge!

Even when I’m working, part of my brain is thinking about school pickup, whether someone ate enough that day, if I responded to an email from a teacher, if we’re out of snacks. It’s this constant low hum that never fully turns off, and it. Is. Exhausting. (Can you tell I’m tired by these answers …) So yes, the mental load was next level and made medical school feel like a walk in the park.

You talk a lot about simplifying skincare. Has motherhood changed your own routines in a way that surprised you?

I can always tell my emotional state by how much care I put into my skincare routine. It may sound funny but when I’m in a good place emotionally, I like taking time to wash my face, put on my cute headband, do a little double cleanse and massage, apply retinoid and a moisturizer. But when I’m stressed, I can barely muster the energy to wash my face. So that was one realization that my skincare routine is a direct reflection of my own mental health. I also opted for simpler routines. I’ve always loved multitasking products. This was a huge part of the way I crafted Kerativ products in my own brand—I wanted each product to multitask, supporting the scalp, caring for the hair and helping promote the appearance of fuller-looking hair, while still being fast, easy and simple to use in a way that elevates your everyday routine.

There’s a version of you that existed before kids—professionally, personally, creatively. Do you feel like you’ve returned to her, or become someone entirely new?

I was a big Pokemon fan when I was young, so (bear with me here) I think I’ve evolved into a different version of me now. I’ll never go back to the version of me that existed pre-kids because the reality is, I will always and forever be a Mom. I will always be thinking about my kids’ safety and well being, and until they go off to college, I don’t expect to have the same “pick up and go” type of flexibility that I had before kids. And that’s ok! I just have to figure out how to work more efficiently and also relentless carve out time with family where I put the phone and laptop away.

What does “taking care of yourself” actually look like in this season—not aspirationally, but realistically?

“You cannot pour from an empty cup” is something admin used to tell burnt out healthcare workers, and my mom recently said something very similar to me. She said unless I prioritize my health, I cannot take care of ANYONE else, whether that’s my kids, my husband, or my parents. It’s true, but I will admit, this is hard for me. Things have been really busy these past 6 months, still seeing patients at Skin Refinery, posting five times a week on Tea with MD, and also launching Kerativ my haircare brand. I joke that I have 3 full time jobs in addition to being a parent. What time do I have left?! My health has really taken a beating, and I’m suffering all kinds of consequences right now. So at this point in my life, this very moment, taking care of myself means making sure I eat 3 meals a day, drinking water, making time to go to the gym a few times a week, putting my phone away after I pick up the kids until they go to bed, and planning alone time with the people I care about, whether that’s my family or friends.

How has becoming a mother influenced the way you think about aging—not just physically, but emotionally?

Before kids, I think I paid more attention to every small change in my face, like fine lines, texture, all of it. Now I still notice those things, but they don’t carry the same weight. My body went through pregnancy many times. It healed from surgeries, from complications, from things I genuinely don’t know if I will fully recover from in the moment. Even now, two years postpartum! So when I see signs of aging now, it feels different because I also carry appreciation and respect for what my body has done.

What’s one belief you held about motherhood before becoming a parent that you’ve completely let go of?

I was and am a perfectionist, to a certain degree. I have been my whole life. But after becoming a parent you just realize you simply do not have control of outcomes no matter how much effort you put into it. There’s no such thing as the “right” way to parent. We’re all doing our best.

For the moms reading this who feel like they’ve lost a part of themselves—whether in their careers, their bodies, or their identity—what would you want them to hear from you?

I wish I could reach out and give you a huge hug because girl I’ve been there. I remember how hopeless I felt. It gets better, it truly does. And even when you feel like you don’t remember the “old” version of you, and you’re not sure if traces of her will resurface again, have faith. And give yourself grace, so much grace, and take all the time you need to heal. Send me a DM if you ever need a reminder of how amazing you are!

Want to Nominate Someone for the Motherhood Identity Series?

The Motherhood Identity Series exists to spotlight women navigating the real, complicated, and transformative terrain of motherhood—founders, creators, leaders, artists and mothers whose stories challenge how we talk about identity, ambition, and becoming.

If you know someone whose story deserves to be told — or if you’re interested in being interviewed yourself — we’d love to hear from you.

📩 Email Jenn at jenn@milaandjomedia.com with a brief note about who you are (or who you’re nominating) and why their story feels meaningful right now.

We’re always listening.

You know you’ve reached success when your clients are A-list celebrities, your calendar is fully booked and you’re carrying out cutting-edge treatments with ease.

But what even that version of success doesn’t show is everything happening behind it—the mental load, the missed moments, the identity shifts that come with building something meaningful while raising children.

In this edition of The Motherhood Identity Series, we’re stepping into that space with two women who are not only shaping the future of beauty and skin health, but doing it while navigating motherhood in real time.

On one side is Shani Darden, the celebrity esthetician whose name has become synonymous with results-driven skincare and a refreshingly no-frills approach to beauty. Her philosophy is rooted in consistency over perfection—showing up, doing the work and trusting that results come from discipline, not shortcuts.

On the other is Dr. Sheila Farhang, a double board-certified dermatologist and cosmetic surgeon whose work centers around “skin longevity”—a science-driven approach to strengthening and supporting skin at a deeper, cellular level over time.

Now, their worlds have officially come together. In fact, this month marks the launch of a new partnership at the Shani Darden Studio in Beverly Hills, where Dr. Farhang steps in as the studio’s first in-house dermatologist, bringing regenerative, clinical dermatology into a space already known for its high-touch, results-driven care.

Together, they’re kind of closing the gap between what used to feel like two totally different worlds: clinical treatments and everyday skincare. We’re big fans of this kind of approach, which focuses less on quick fixes or how your skin looks right now, and more about what’s actually happening underneath (how your skin feels, heals, and holds up over time).

We sat down with the two powerhouse women to talk about what it actually looks like to build careers at this level while raising kids—and neither of them really sugarcoats it.

Shani, especially, is very straightforward about it. Becoming a mom didn’t suddenly change how she works or what she wanted—it just meant figuring out how to do both. At one point she was working out of her back house, going in between clients to breastfeed, then heading right back to work. She’s missed things and she knows that, but she also doesn’t pretend there was some cleaner, easier version of building her business. (How refreshing!?)

Dr. Farhang comes at it a little differently. She still has that same level of ambition, but motherhood changed how she moves through her days. Things take longer, she’s more intentional and more aware of her time and energy. It didn’t make her less driven, it just shifted how she shows up.

Even with those different perspectives, they land in a similar place: you don’t really “figure it out.” You just keep adjusting as you go.

In this conversation, we get into the parts people don’t always talk about—the mental load, the guilt, the trade-offs, and how your definition of success starts to look different once you’re holding all of it at once.

Before building your careers, who were you—and what parts of that version of you has motherhood challenged or reshaped the most?

Dr. Sheila Farhang: Before motherhood, my career was nearly everything. I was much more structured and turnaround was QUICK. While, I’m still driven and my career is super important to me, things have changed pace since being a mother. I won’t lie and say it hasn’t softened me a bit…timelines are more realistic. Since I am a business owner, I set my own timelines and deadlines and I’ve realized things are still getting done. I am definitely more present and cherish moments even if they are not “productive”. Of note, I’m literally answering these questions the last day they are due at 6 am with my baby crawling all over me.

Shani Darden: Not really. I’m not going to be like your traditional answers because a lot of it hasn’t, it didn’t, a lot of it didn’t really change for me. I mean, maybe it makes you—I’ve always had a really strong work ethic and always worked a lot. So it didn’t change too much. And at the time that I started my career, I wasn’t working as much. I didn’t have as many clients when I had my first child, Phoenix. So I was just starting. I was going in and I was seeing like, sometimes I would only have one client in a day. I worked at a spa. So it didn’t really change anything. That came later on. My business really grew after I had my second child, who is 13 now. So that was in 12, 11, 12. So 12 is when my business really grew a lot.

Was there a moment in early motherhood when your identity shifted in a way you didn’t expect?

Dr. Sheila Farhang: Totally—it’s when I realized I couldn’t just “push through”. I have to be more intentional with my time, focus and energy. I also started being more mindful of not bringing work home – even though my baby is 11 months, he senses stress so I come home from sometimes a 12 hour day of skin cancer surgeries and have to show up 100% to him.

What did ambition look like in the early years of motherhood?

Dr. Sheila Farhang: I still have ambition—it’s just more intentional. I’m much more selective with my time and how and with who I spend my focus and energy on.

Shani Darden: I mean, no more than life. I think it’s hard to balance, but I don’t balance it. I do it the same as I do it now. At the time I was working out of my back house. So Lennon, who was a baby then, she was there. So I could go in and breastfeed and go back and do another four facials. I didn’t really find it different—I’m just used to it all. Nothing really changed for me, having children at all, other than you obviously work harder because you want your kids to never have to worry.

Motherhood often forces us to rethink control, expectations, and perfectionism. How has your relationship with those things evolved?

Dr. Sheila Farhang: Rethinking control, expectations, and perfectionism has been my biggest struggle. I’m still working on it.

Did becoming a mother change your definition of success?

Dr. Sheila Farhang: Becoming a mother 10000% changed my definition of success. We can’t take back those times and I know the first 3 years are so important for attachment so I’m working on being present. One day, I remember telling my husband that I wasn’t productive at all and he said to me husband that the memories I created with Lukas were meaningful so I try to remind myself of that. Of note, my husband is an Astrophysicist PhD for NASA, super chill, grew up in Europe…we are total opposites—and balance each other out.

What’s something about building a career at this level while raising children that people don’t talk about enough?

Dr. Sheila Farhang: The mental load can be overwhelming. Also, being a mother is much harder than being a dermatologic surgeon.

What has motherhood taught you about self-trust?

Dr. Sheila Farhang: I’ve leaned into my instincts a lot more and didn’t even know I would be a good mom naturally but it’s crazy and amazing to realize how much of it can feel instinctual.

Have there been seasons where work or motherhood had to take priority?

Shani Darden: Not being here. Probably that. I’ve missed out on a lot of things. Which sucks, but I try to put myself in this mindset of like, look—like for so long, it was the man, the dad that wasn’t around. And it’s kind of like women are ruling the world. And that’s what I want them to see.

Dr. Sheila Farhang: I’m still working on balancing my workload. There are a few projects that I’m working on at a slower, more manageable pace.

Looking back, what do you wish someone had told you about identity in early motherhood?

Dr. Sheila Farhang: Before becoming a mother, I heard a lot about people mourning their old self which was so scary to hear…and while I understand that, I feel like I’m a better version of my old self.

If a mother feels like she’s “lost herself,” what would you want her to know?

Shani Darden: I would just say you just have to do it. You have to do it and you have to find a way where you don’t feel guilty about it. Because like I said, it used to always be the men. It’s all about the women, and you just have to believe in that. And listen, I would love to be with my kids all the time. Actually, no, I wouldn’t. But I would love to spend more time with my kids. But I also want to give my kids everything.

Dr. Sheila Farhang: This is a transition period and to give yourself time. This season will make you become more grounded, stronger, and resilient – more than you could ever imagine.

How has motherhood shaped your perspective on beauty and aging?

Dr. Sheila Farhang: I see a lot of new moms who just finished breastfeeding or just found the time to focus on themselves. I can now relate to my patients and I feel like they trust me even more now that I understand what they have gone through. My approach to aesthetics hasn’t changed much—maybe embracing a few extra wrinkles.

How do you navigate pressure around appearance while raising children?

Dr. Sheila Farhang: Great question. I’ve always been more conservative and natural-looking in my approach to aesthetics for both myself and my patients. In other words, I get botox, filler, lasers, etc but I don’t look I have. One thing I have to keep in mind later on (especially if I have a daughter) is being overly critical about aging or outward appearance but instead model healthy self-care and confidence.

Want to Nominate Someone for the Motherhood Identity Series?

The Motherhood Identity Series exists to spotlight women navigating the real, complicated, and transformative terrain of motherhood—founders, creators, leaders, artists and mothers whose stories challenge how we talk about identity, ambition, and becoming.

If you know someone whose story deserves to be told — or if you’re interested in being interviewed yourself — we’d love to hear from you.

📩 Email Jenn at jenn@milaandjomedia.com with a brief note about who you are (or who you’re nominating) and why their story feels meaningful right now.

We’re always listening.

There’s a unique rhythm to this space—the one where motherhood and identity intersect—and it often begins the same way: with a name in an inbox.

At The Mother Chapter, we’re constantly introduced to women doing extraordinary, complex, deeply meaningful work—founders, activists, artists, experts, many of them mothers shaping culture, challenging systems,and building lives that don’t always fit neatly into the narratives we’ve been given.

Still, every so often, a name lands that feels different. That’s what happened with Valarie Kaur.

The introduction came through her latest book, Sage Warrior, newly released in paperback and already being positioned as one of the most timely reads as America approaches its 250th year. It’s a book that brings together Sikh wisdom, neuroscience and spiritual practice to offer something many of us are quietly searching for right now: a way through burnout, division and the heaviness of modern life.

But before the book, before the conversation, there was a pause, because the name lingered. Then, a discovery that stopped us for a moment longer: a message from 2007 that I sent after Valarie spoke at my hometown high school in Swampscott. As a teenager, I had reached out to her to say how deeply moved I was, how inspired I felt and how it made me want to do something meaningful with my own voice.

Valarie had written back warmly, thoughtfully and as if I really, really mattered. And now—nearly two decades later—that same voice is part of this series.

There’s something about that kind of full-circle moment that feels especially fitting here, because so much of Valarie’s work centers on what she calls “Revolutionary Love”—the idea that the way we love, care and show up for one another has the power to transform not just our own lives, but the world around us.

In this conversation, what becomes clear is that motherhood didn’t sit adjacent to that work—it expanded it. She speaks about love not as a fleeting emotion, but as labor—fierce, imperfect and ongoing—that asks something of you every single day and that stretches your capacity for joy, grief, anger and wonder all at once.

She brings that lens into the most intimate spaces: the home, the body, the relationship between parent and child and the everyday moments that don’t always feel revolutionary but maybe are.

What unfolds here isn’t a tidy conversation about “balance” or “having it all.” In fact, she’s clear that those frameworks don’t hold. Instead, she offers something that feels far more honest and far more useful: the idea of harmony, that different parts of life will rise and fall, that some seasons will feel louder than others, and that the work is not to perfect it, but to keep listening, showing up and keep asking, in her words: Was I brave with my love today?

It’s a question that lingers long after the conversation ends. Because beneath everything—career, ambition, identity, motherhood—it points to something deeper; a reminder that the work happening inside our homes, inside our relationships, inside ourselves, is not separate from the larger world we want to build. It is the beginning of it.

Below, we chat with Valarie about how motherhood reshaped her understanding of love, why she’s let go of the idea of balance and what it means to stay in the long labor of hope—even when it feels out of reach.

You’ve spent your life advocating for justice, love, and collective care—how did becoming a mother deepen or challenge the way you live out those values day to day?

Becoming a mother changed everything for me — how I understood love and justice, darkness and time.

When my son was born and landed on my chest, I was shaking from the rush of emotion flooding my body and thought: “This is love — I am falling in love.” And I was! Meanwhile, my mother opened her bag and pulled out her dal and chawal and began to feed me, feeding her baby while I fed mine. My mother knew what I was just beginning to learn: Love is more than that rush of feeling. Love is sweet labor — fierce, bloody, imperfect, life-giving, a choice we make again and again. And it engages all our emotions. Joy is the gift of love. Grief is the price of love. Anger is the force we harness to protect that which we love. And when we think we have reached our limit, wonder is what returns us to love.

As mothering radically expanded my understanding of love, I asked: What happens when we bring a fraction of that kind of love to the world around us? When we see their children as our children? Love becomes a revolutionary force. The greatest social justice movements in history were anchored in that kind of love. Now more than ever, I believe Revolutionary Love is the call of our times.

Every day, I hold in my heart the question: The future is dark. Is this the darkness of the tomb, or the darkness of the womb? Some days are so deadly, I taste the ash in my mouth. I have to gather my strength to look again into the darkness and see what is truly new in this moment: people who have no obvious reason to love one another coming together to care for each other, to risk themselves for one another — as we saw in Minnesota this year. I see glimpses of the world wanting to be born, where you see my child as yours, and I see yours as mine. Our task is to stay in the long labor. Every day, I need the wisdom of the midwife: Breathe, and push.

Your work centers around “revolutionary love.” How has motherhood reshaped your understanding of what that actually looks like in practice—not just in the world, but within your own home?

I developed the Revolutionary Love framework as a way to fight for justice and liberation out in the world. Before I knew it, I was using it in our home every day with my young children.

Can I lead with wonder to figure out what they need? Can I model how to listen when it’s really hard? Can I give my children (and myself) safe containers for rage? As the crises keep coming, can we metabolize grief together? On the darkest days, can I still protect our joy?

Revolutionary Love is the choice to leave no one outside our circle of care. It’s an invitation into a way of being human together. And so, any arena in our lives can be a practice space: our school, workplace, sacred places, friend group, living room.

These days, our home has become a kind of liberation experiment, a container for beloved community. We gather organizers and artists and neighbors around food and music. We sit in circles with musical instruments and share our ancestors’ song-prayers, the children on our laps. We let in joy. Then, we make a plan for how we are going to enact the next public action. It’s how our wisest ancestors fought for justice—anchoring in love, activating joy. I sometimes wonder whether it’s okay for my children to know so much about authoritarian violence and oppression at a young age. So far, they are always joyful about the next gathering. They are learning that fighting for justice and being brave together can feel good in our bodies, that it can become the most meaningful and pleasurable way of being alive, because it holds us in the deepest kind of community.

We need liberation experiments everywhere: in street protests, marching with flowers in the face of batons, and at the kitchen table in hard conversations with our families. We can practice the world we want in the space between us—a world of belonging and care and humanity. It’s a taste of what the whole world could feel like one day. And it gives us courage to keep showing up to our frontline, whatever that is. The frontline is not only in the streets. The frontline is anywhere we are called to be brave with our love.

There’s a version of ambition that’s outward-facing—impact, recognition, change—and another that’s quieter and rooted in how we show up for our children. How do you hold both?

I used to measure my success by how many people we engaged, how much money was raised, how much power we built. Those things still matter. They are useful and strategic measures. But since having children, they are no longer the metrics that matter the most. I now understand my work as part of one great labor for liberation that began with our ancestors and that will continue with all our children. I may not live to see the world we are laboring for. But my sacred task is to be faithful to the labor, and to labor with love. So, now my metric for success—in mothering and justice work— is: Was I brave with my love today? What does it look like for me to be braver with my love than ever before?

Many women in this community feel a tension between wanting to contribute meaningfully to the world and wanting to be fully present at home. How have you navigated that, especially in seasons where both feel all-consuming?

It is impossible to feel as though you are contributing fully in the world and fully present at home. At least, I have never felt that way. Nor have my friends. As my sister America Ferrera declared on screen: “It is literally impossible to be a woman.”

There is power in solidarity, to realize that you are not alone in feeling not-enough all the time. At this moment, I am on a plane ride across the country to lead a retreat while my son is home from school, sick. I am lucky my parents and husband are caring for him, but that didn’t take away the sinking feeling in my body when I boarded the plane! After a decade of mothering, I’ve come to befriend that awful feeling, to understand that it will always be there with me. It’s a sign of how deeply we love.

I remind myself that children are meant to be raised in community, that they need to know the world is safe and loving, even when Mama leaves for a trip. And that I will return to them more alive and vibrant because I am playing my role in the world.

The idea of “balance” has never helped me. It just made things feel even more impossible. What has helped: the idea of harmony. Can I make the different notes in my life harmonize? Some days, the mothering notes need to be loud and the work soft; other days, the work is the strongest. Still other days, what is needed is quiet and rest. When there is cacophony, I know I need to readjust. The task is to keep listening to your life. Let your life speak (Parker Palmer). Let your life sing. Can you make the different parts of your life harmonize each day? I now think of my life not as a balancing act but a symphony. A song of love.

Has motherhood changed the way you relate to hope—especially in moments when the world feels heavy or uncertain?

For me, hope is a feeling that waxes and wanes, like the moon. Sometimes, it’s bright and luminous, and I feel full of hope! Other times, I feel only a sliver of hope. And on the darkest nights, there’s no hope in me at all. On those nights, my one task is to lift my gaze and know that there is always someone with me in the dark. Will I take their hand? I draw up the energy to call my friend, make a cup of chaa with my mother, play a song and dance with my children, show up to the march anyway, and stay in the labor — until inevitably, the moon is bright and full again.

If I want to feel hope, I must create the conditions for joy. Joy keeps me in the labor — until hope fills the sky again.

Was there a moment in motherhood where you felt a clear shift in your identity—where you realized you weren’t the same version of yourself anymore?

I was nursing my daughter in the early morning hours, thinking of all the things I had to do, when I started thinking of how my body was turning blood into milk, and hers was turning milk back into blood. I noticed the morning light on her skin and her one eye looking up at me, and there was just light and skin and warmth, and I did not know where I ended and she began.

That’s when I knew I was multiple. We are all multiple. As we love one another, we become part of one another. And sometimes, just sometimes, we get to feel that truth.

Your work invites people to turn inward and trust their own voice. How has raising children shaped your relationship with your own intuition?

In the early days of motherhood, I would hold my son and tell him, “You are so good. You are so brave. You are so beloved.” My husband asked me, “Why don’t you speak to yourself that way?” Ugh, he was right. I married too well. He knew that I often berated myself for not being enough—and that the little critic did not have to be the loudest voice in my head. So I started to practice speaking to myself the way I spoke to my beloved child. “Oh my love, you are enough,” I called her Wise Woman. Listening to her voice every day, for the last ten years, is how I finally learned to love myself.

I believe we all have a voice of wisdom within us. That voice is just quiet. We must step away from the noise of the world to allow the wisest, most loving part of ourselves to be heard. That means stepping away from the phone and social media, from the news and a culture run by tyrannical little critics. Audre Lorde once declared, “We can learn to mother ourselves.” Imagine a world where people are acting and speaking from their deepest wisdom, to each other and to themselves. A world where love has dismantled hierarchies of human value and built institutions of care and belonging. I believe if we are to last as a species, we must become human beings who love as a way of being. The revolution is an evolution. And we can enact it now, within us. What has motherhood taught you about self-trust?

I realized while preparing for this conversation that we’re actually Facebook friends—I messaged you in 2007 after you spoke at my high school, and your words clearly stayed with me. What does it feel like to know your voice has been shaping people, often quietly, for that long—and now to be doing that work while raising your own children?

Wow, I’m so moved! Thank you for sharing that with me. It makes me think: Okay, just keep scattering the seeds. Some will fall on rock. But others will fall into someone’s heart. And just one seed taking root is a wondrous and marvelous thing. It will blossom in ways that you cannot know or imagine, most likely, beyond your lifetime. Let’s keep spreading seeds together.

Anything else you’d like to share?

I spent twenty years of my life organizing around hate; I will spend the rest of my life organizing around love. We are building a movement to reclaim love as a force for justice, healing, and transformation. It began a decade ago, and now there are liberation experiments across the country! If anything here spoke to you, it’s touching wisdom already within you: Love is our birthright. I hope the resources, gatherings, and tools at the Revolutionary Love Project can nourish and fortify you: revolutionarylove.org

Each of my books is a doorway into the movement. If you are hungry for social justice, read See No Stranger: A Memoir and Manifesto of Revolutionary Love. For spiritual nourishment, read Sage Warrior. And to practice Revolutionary Love with your children, read the picture book World of Wonder. It comes with resources for parents and families.

Want to Nominate Someone for the Motherhood Identity Series?

The Motherhood Identity Series exists to spotlight women navigating the real, complicated, and transformative terrain of motherhood—founders, creators, leaders, artists and mothers whose stories challenge how we talk about identity, ambition, and becoming.

If you know someone whose story deserves to be told — or if you’re interested in being interviewed yourself — we’d love to hear from you.

📩 Email Jenn at jenn@milaandjomedia.com with a brief note about who you are (or who you’re nominating) and why their story feels meaningful right now.

We’re always listening.

At some point in motherhood, you realize you’ve slowly stopped pouring into yourself the way you used to.

It doesn’t happen in a momentary, dramatic, everything-fell-apart kind of way, but much more often in small, almost unnoticeable ways. Maybe you start getting ready faster, skip some parts of your daily routine that once felt grounding and tell yourself you’ll come back to it when there’s more time, more space, more energy—which, of course, never really comes.

For a while, all of this feels fine—or at least manageable—until there’s this quiet awareness that you’re showing up for everything and everyone… but not fully for yourself.

What makes talking to KNESKO founder Lejla Cas so refreshing is that she doesn’t pretend to be immune to that shift—even after more than two decades in the beauty and wellness world. If anything, motherhood sharpened her perspective in a way that feels incredibly honest.

Instead of doubling down on doing more, adding more, optimizing more, she actually let a lot of that go. She talks about reaching a point where you stop chasing trends and start paying attention to how things feel—where beauty stops being something external to keep up with and becomes something that supports you from the inside out and that shift isn’t theoretical for her—it’s something she lives, both personally and through the brand she’s built.

As the founder of KNESKO, a skincare line rooted in ritual and intention, Lejla has always approached skincare as something deeper than just a routine. But motherhood gave that philosophy a different kind of weight. When so much of your day is spent meeting other people’s needs, even a few minutes that are entirely yours start to feel sacred.

What also stands out is how seamlessly her roles are intertwined. She runs KNESKO alongside her husband, and their daughters are growing up watching it all happen in real time—the decisions, the challenges, the consistency it takes to build something over years. There’s a clarity in the way she talks about that—about legacy, about modeling what it looks like to go after something you care about, without losing yourself in the process.

This week’s Motherhood Identity Series, Lejla shares how becoming a mother reshaped her relationship with beauty, why ritual became non-negotiable and what it looks like to raise daughters while actively unlearning the very standards so many of us grew up with.

How did becoming a mother shift the way you think about beauty, wellness, or self-care?

When you get older and you’re raising daughters, you go through so many trend cycles that you just stop taking beauty so seriously. And that’s actually a gift. Because you stop chasing and you start feeling. For me, beauty, wellness, and self-care became the foundation, not a finish line. They’re how I’m able to show up for all the different parts of myself and all the different roles I play. As a mother, as a founder, as a wife, as a friend. Without that foundation, I can’t be any of those things fully.

Did motherhood deepen your connection to KNESKO’s philosophy?

So much. KNESKO has always been about deepening your connection with yourself. Seeing skincare as a ritual that genuinely gives back to you, not just another task on your to-do list. It’s not about anyone else. It’s your time. And motherhood made that feel even more true. Because when you’re a mother, everyone needs something from you all day long. So that moment of ritual, your serums, your masks, your bath, your quiet, that’s sacred. That’s yours. My full skincare ritual is something I never skip. It’s how I practice what I preach after long days running the company and being a mom. I look forward to it every single day.

Did becoming a mother change how you run your business?

It clarified everything. My husband Sean and I run KNESKO together, so our daughters literally grow up watching us build this. They see us work through challenges, make decisions, show up every day for something we believe in. And I think about that all the time. I want to create a legacy for them. If they want to be part of the company one day, I want that door to be open. So, every decision I make about the future of the brand, I keep them in mind. I want to make them proud.

What does self-care actually look like for you on a regular weekday?

I take self-care very seriously, but I have so much fun doing it, and I think that’s important. It doesn’t have to feel like a prescription. I take hikes, I drink my smoothies, I spend time with my girlfriends, and I KNESKO. My bath is non-negotiable. That’s my time. Mask on, serums in, warm water, no agenda. It’s such a simple thing but it completely resets me. My brand is all about the ritual of connecting with yourself and truly enjoying it, so you actually look forward to it again and again. That’s how I live it too.

What surprised you most about motherhood while also building a business?

That it’s possible. I think so many mothers doubt themselves—‘can I really do both?’ And what I’ve learned is not only is it possible, it’s actually good for them. My daughters are inspired watching their mom build her dreams. They don’t see it as me being away or distracted. They see a woman who loves what she does and goes after it. That realization surprised me and it moved me because I never want them to think they have to choose.

Has motherhood changed how you think about aging or beauty standards?

Completely. Watching my daughters grow up and encounter beauty standards brings up so much for me. I remember being their age and how much I needed someone to tell me that self-acceptance was enough. That taking care of yourself was about love, not fixing. I’m so passionate about raising them with that mentality and honestly, getting older has helped me model it better. I’ve stopped being afraid of aging and started just enjoying myself. My skin, my body, my life. That shift is real and I want them to see it.

What’s a moment in motherhood that quietly changed you?

We travel a lot as a family and we take our girls everywhere. There’s something about seeing the world through their eyes—the wonder, the excitement, the way everything is new to them, that constantly inspires me. It reminds me to stay curious. To not take things for granted. One of my daughters once saw the ocean for the first time and just stood there completely still. I think about that moment a lot. It was so simple and so full. Motherhood gives you those moments and they change you quietly, permanently.

What do you hope your daughters learn from watching you?

I hope they learn that you can follow your passion, build something meaningful, take great care of yourself, and still be fully present for the people you love. All of it together. I have two Libra daughters so balance is literally in their nature, and I want them to see their mother actually living that, not just talking about it. Family is always first for me. Always. And then work. But Sean and I have built something where those two things coexist and support each other. I hope they grow up feeling that and I hope they know that whatever they want to build, they can.

What would you say to mothers who feel like they’ve lost themselves?

I would advise them to come back to ritual. Even five minutes that belong only to you—not to your kids, not to your partner, not to your inbox. Just you. A bath, a mask, a walk, a smoothie with a friend. Something that says I matter too. I needed that message when I was younger and I need it now as a mother. We all do. And I really believe that when we take care of ourselves, we’re not being selfish. We’re showing our children what self-respect looks like. Especially if you’re raising daughters. They are watching everything.

What does “motherhood identity” mean to you now?

It’s one of the greatest privileges of my life. There is something so profound about raising young girls while also getting to revisit younger parts of yourself through them. You see the world through their eyes and something in you opens up in a new way. The bond you build with other women who are also mothers is unlike anything else. We understand each other on a level that’s hard to explain. And for me, motherhood expanded something that was already there. It deepened my sense of purpose, my capacity for love, my connection to other women. I came into motherhood whole. And it just keeps giving me more.

Want to Nominate Someone for the Motherhood Identity Series?

The Motherhood Identity Series exists to spotlight women navigating the real, complicated, and transformative terrain of motherhood—founders, creators, leaders, artists and mothers whose stories challenge how we talk about identity, ambition, and becoming.

If you know someone whose story deserves to be told — or if you’re interested in being interviewed yourself — we’d love to hear from you.

📩 Email Jenn at jenn@milaandjomedia.com with a brief note about who you are (or who you’re nominating) and why their story feels meaningful right now.

We’re always listening.

There’s a version of motherhood we all quietly expect—especially if we’re educated, informed, and, let’s be honest, a little type A.

You read the books, you understand the research and you know what’s “best.” Somewhere deep down, you believe that if you just follow the guidelines closely enough, stay consistent enough, care deeply enough—you can get it right.

This is true for so many moms especially when it comes to something so seemingly instinctual: feeding your child.

For so many of us, feeding’s not just about food—it’s about health, growth, development, identity, love. It’s one of the earliest ways we care for our children, and one of the first places we measure ourselves as mothers.

Unfortunately, almost as soon as motherhood begins, we realize that feeding is something that resists being mastered.

For Jennifer Anderson, the registered dietitian and founder behind Kids Eat In Color, feeding wasn’t just personal—it was professional. She had the education, the credentials and the evidence-based knowledge to back it all up, so if anyone was going to feel confident stepping into motherhood, it was her.

And yet, like so many mothers, she found herself face-to-face with a reality that didn’t match the plan. Because the truth is: motherhood doesn’t just challenge what we know—it challenges how tightly we hold onto knowing.

What makes Jennifer’s story so compelling isn’t just what she’s built—a platform that has helped millions of families feel more grounded and less anxious about feeding their kids—it’s how it started. It didn’t start from a place of authority, but from uncertainty—from not having the answers and realizing that even with all the right information, motherhood still asks something more of you.

In a culture that constantly tells mothers there is a “right way” to do things (especially when it comes to raising healthy eaters), Jennifer’s work quietly pushes back on the idea that there is one universal formula and that what works beautifully for one child, one family, one season, may not work at all for another.

Of course, that doesn’t mean you’re failing—it means you’re mothering in real life.

We sat down with Anderson to have a conversation that goes well beyond picky eating or what to serve for dinner (though, yes, it will absolutely make you feel more sane about both). Below, we dive into the deeper topics like what happens when motherhood disrupts the identity you thought you’d carry into it—and how, in that disruption, something more honest begins to take shape.

Before Kids Eat in Color existed, who were you professionally and personally—and what parts of that version of you motherhood challenged the most?

Since I was 13, I’ve been a person who wanted to improve life for people—and that’s looked different depending on what my context has been. When I had kids, motherhood and parenthood became my context, and I got to start the next chapter of helping people.

Many mothers feel pressure to “do everything right,” especially around feeding. How did becoming a mother reshape your own relationship with control, perfectionism, or expectations?

I have always wanted to do everything right for my kids and I still do. The biggest problem isn’t the pressure to do everything right, it’s the idea that there is one universal “best” practice for all kids. For example, having consistent family meals is a “best practice” and it’s great for many families. It’s not right or possible for every family though—and for those families, the pressure to try to do something that isn’t the right fit brings a load of problems with it.

Becoming a mother has made it more evident to me that it’s often our perception of what is “best” for our kids that is tripping us up. Accepting my reality and working with that has mitigated a lot of stress and helped me find solutions that work for my kids.

Was there a moment in early motherhood when you felt your identity shifting in a way you didn’t fully expect?

When my son was 9 months old, we stood in the pediatrician’s office and she said, “He’s not gaining weight.” I was just a year out of graduate school with a Master of Science in Public Health specializing in human nutrition, and getting my registered dietitian credential. I was confident that I was going to feed my little guy and it was going to be easy—and that moment pulled the rug out from under me entirely.

You built a platform that supports millions of families while raising your own children. What did ambition look like for you during the earliest years of motherhood?

I started making cute little bento lunches for my son to take to preschool and I noticed a few early warning signs for extreme picky eating in my other son. So, my husband and I were leaning hard into evidence-based feeding practices as well as food preparation. It was hard and I didn’t know anyone else struggling with feeding like we were—I wanted to find others struggling too. So, I started posting pictures of my son’s lunches online and sharing the feeding strategies behind the lunches to help other parents as well. I was very motivated to find purpose beyond the day-to-day struggles that come with feeding.

What’s something about building a business as a mother that people don’t talk about enough?

That for many of us, important things will get dropped. I’ve heard many different phrases that are supposed to help “Choose your priorities” or “You can have it all, just not all at one time” or “You can’t juggle it all, so juggle the glass balls and drop the rubber balls that will bounce when they fall.” Those are helpful! And also, some of us might find that we drop glass balls too—we don’t do things we consider to be really important and something negative happens as a result. That’s really hard, especially if you’ve bought into the idea that most people aren’t dropping glass balls.

Did motherhood change your definition of success—and if so, how?

My broad definition of success has always been to have a life in which we can pursue health and joy, and to be a loving presence in the world to make it a better place in whatever capacity we can. That hasn’t changed.

You spend your days helping parents feel less anxious about feeding their kids. What anxieties did you quietly carry as a mother that people might be surprised to hear about?

Getting things right on social media can be tricky—there isn’t much space or attention span for nuanced information which can easily result in people misunderstanding the message or not finding anything helpful. So, it can be anxiety-provoking to try to create content that presents succinct reliable information in a way that’s digestible and that will capture attention without creating unnecessary fear for parents.

What has motherhood taught you about self-trust?

That we have to develop our ability to think creatively about the problems that we encounter with our kids and deeply believe that we have what it takes to figure it out. I think self-trust gets tricky when we think we know all the right answers already or that our “gut” will always lead us in the right direction. Sometimes, we have to look outside of ourselves for information or help, in order to figure out situations. So, self-trust is the deep confidence in our ability to figure it out, but with a balanced perspective on whether we have all the information we need or whether we need to seek out more information.

What kinds of support—emotional, logistical, or professional—made it possible for you to grow Kids Eat in Color while raising a family?

My husband has been the most important person. While he was in graduate school doing his PhD, I did a lot more at home and with the kids. When he was done with that, he took on more at home and with the kids, and that’s when I was able to start a business. Additionally, I’ve worked hard to maintain connections with friends (even if not often), meet other people with small businesses, and doing plenty of childcare juggling.

Have there been seasons where your work needed to take a step back for motherhood, or motherhood needed to make room for work? What did those negotiations look like internally?

While I was writing and publishing my book, Feed Them Well. My husband took over almost all school drop offs and pick ups and he scheduled his work around many of the kids’ needs.

Looking back, what do you wish someone had told you about identity during the early years of parenting?

I had a good example of a mom who was an extremely engaged parent (full-time stay at home mom) and who was also her own person and did things for herself. So, the juggle of going too long without a shower and sticking a kid in a stroller to go for a walk for my own sanity seemed familiar to me. I had to learn what that looked like for me though. I had a rule for my kids that they could pick out one thing from the grocery store when we went shopping (something small), but during one Costco run, I realized I never did that for myself. So I bought some raspberries - a food I would almost exclusively feed the kids on the occasions I got them - and I waited until the kids were napping and I ate them myself. Since then, when I need to give myself a little boost, I buy myself some raspberries. Tiny things like that are important to me.

What parts of yourself has motherhood strengthened that you didn’t realize were there before?

I had a successful VBAC with my second son and at one point the midwife told me “you need to push harder”. I honestly thought I was pushing as hard as I could, but I found something I didn’t know I had and pushed harder. Ever since then, I’ve learned I can push harder and handle tricky situations—and the more I handle, the stronger I get bit by bit.

If a mother reading this feels like she has “lost herself,” what would you want her to know?

If you think you’ve lost yourself, you’re still in there. There’s a lot of talk about “self care” to make sure you don’t lose yourself and at least when my kids were little, that sounded like yet another to-do and guilt trip. Little things can help though and they all count, whether it’s buying yourself some raspberries, going to the dentist, showering, reading 1 page of a book before bed, taking a picture of a flower or animal at the playground just for you because you think it’s fun. And despite what you read on certain mom pages, you can deliberately put yourself on the back burner to make your life doable—and that’s actually ok. It’s just a phase—even if it’s not your favorite phase—and you will add in some little things for yourself as soon as you can.

Right now, in this season of life, what does feeling like yourself again—or perhaps becoming someone new—look like for you?

I’m always becoming a new version of myself. In this latest version, as my kids have gotten older I have more time flexibility and I’ve been able to do regular strength-building workouts. So, I’m enjoying being able to do real push ups for the first time ever!

Want to Nominate Someone for the Motherhood Identity Series?

The Motherhood Identity Series exists to spotlight women navigating the real, complicated, and transformative terrain of motherhood—founders, creators, leaders, artists and mothers whose stories challenge how we talk about identity, ambition, and becoming.

If you know someone whose story deserves to be told — or if you’re interested in being interviewed yourself — we’d love to hear from you.

📩 Email Jenn at jenn@milaandjomedia.com with a brief note about who you are (or who you’re nominating) and why their story feels meaningful right now.

We’re always listening.

There are people you meet in life who make you feel like the most beautiful version of yourself—and then there are the ones who quite literally help you see her.

For me, that’s Lauren Paglionico.

She did my hair on my wedding day, and I remember sitting in her chair feeling this rare combination of calm and anticipation—like everything was about to change, but somehow I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Lauren has that effect. It’s not just that she’s incredibly talented (though she is, and anyone who has ever left her chair knows it), it’s that she understands beauty as something deeper than what’s visible. She sees women (like really sees them) and then reflects that back in a way that feels effortless, elevated and entirely your own.

Which is why, when we think about motherhood and identity—the way it reshapes you, stretches you, softens you, sharpens you—Lauren’s perspective feels especially meaningful.

Before motherhood, Lauren built a name for herself in one of the most competitive industries out there. She’s known for her signature blondes and lived-in color, yes—but also for the way women feel when they leave her chair: lighter, brighter, more themselves. Her work has always lived at the intersection of creativity and confidence. But motherhood didn’t replace that identity—it added a new layer to it.

Because that’s the thing no one really prepares you for: you don’t become someone entirely different when you become a mother—you become more you, in ways that can feel both grounding and disorienting at the same time.

What emerges in this conversation is not a polished version of “balance” (because, let’s be honest, that word rarely holds up in real life), but something more honest: rhythm. The constant recalibration between work and home, ambition and presence, doing and being, the quiet (and not-so-quiet) negotiations that happen daily and the guilt, growth and perspective shifts you didn’t see coming.

Lauren speaks to all of it—the way motherhood forces you to slow down in an industry that thrives on speed, the way your time becomes more precious, your energy more intentional, the way you learn, sometimes reluctantly, to ask for help and the way your definition of success evolves into something far more personal, far more meaningful than anything external.

In this conversation for our Motherhood Identity Series, Lauren reflects on what it’s looked like to build a career rooted in helping women feel like their most radiant selves—and then step into motherhood, where that definition deepens in unexpected ways. She shares the quiet (and not-so-quiet) shifts in ambition, the reimagining of time and success, and why letting go of “balance” in favor of rhythm has changed everything. It’s honest, grounding and a reminder that becoming a mother doesn’t take you away from who you are—it brings you closer to it.

Before becoming a mother, how did you define yourself—and how did that definition shift after motherhood?

Before becoming a mother, I defined myself as a creative. My heart was always in creating beauty and using it as a tool to make people not only look beautiful but feel beautiful too. Motherhood didn’t change that part of me, it only deepened the feeling. It gave me a new perspective, making me realize how nurturing I am and how it always translated through my work.

Did becoming a mom change how you see yourself as an artist behind the chair?

I wouldn’t necessarily say becoming a mom changed how I see myself. I started working in the industry at 14 so I have experienced significant growth and lived through many versions of myself. Becoming Vincenzo’s mother feels like another layer of experience.

Was there a moment when you realized, “Motherhood has fundamentally changed me”? What happened?

Motherhood forced me to slow down and live in the present moment. Something I am definitely not used to! The beauty industry changes so quickly. You’re constantly trying to predict what’s next and keep up with the latest trends. Motherhood literally stopped me in my tracks. Seeing the world through my son Vincenzo’s eyes and watching his curiosity unfold—whether he’s smiling at himself in the mirror or when he was trying food for the first time—was very grounding for me.

What part of yourself did you fight hardest to hold onto after becoming a mom?

One part of me that I really tried to hold onto was my energy! I constantly multitask and say, “I got it!” instead of asking for help. Motherhood makes you realize the saying “it takes a village” is true. It’s normal to be tired. It’s ok to ask for help and it’s ok to rest.

You’ve built a cult following in a highly competitive industry. Did motherhood sharpen your ambition—or soften it?

Motherhood definitely sharpened my ambition. It made me realize my time is limited and I must hone in on exactly what I want to do and where I want to put my energy. It definitely made me become more intentional about how I want my salon.

Did your relationship to work change after becoming a mom? In what ways?

Absolutely! Before becoming a mom I said yes to everything. I took evening clients and sometimes worked until 9:00 pm. My husband also works a lot of hours so being at the salon was a no brainer. I love what I do and was happy to dedicate my time to it. My schedule completely changed when I became a mom, especially now that Vincenzo is getting older. Most days I take my first client at 8:30 a.m. right after school drop-off and leave the salon at 3:00 p.m. to take our son to his after-school activities.

Has motherhood influenced the way you mentor younger stylists or run your business?

Honestly, no. Because I have been in the industry since I was a teenager, I was lucky to have so many incredible mentors in my life, some of whom I still talk to. Their guidance helped shape me into the colorist and salon owner I am today and only made me want to be a mentor and pass down their gifts.

Beauty is often about transformation. Has becoming a mother changed how you think about beauty itself?

It hasn’t changed how I think about beauty, rather, it’s changed how I make time for it. I used to love a five-step skincare routine but today I prefer fewer products and fewer steps. When you’re a mom you learn to appreciate beauty products that work quickly without being overcomplicated.

What does “balance” realistically look like for you in this season of life?

For me, there is no such thing as balance. Its more about finding a rhythm. When I tried to find “balance” I only put pressure on myself instead of being gentle and giving myself grace. Truthfully, that’s always been my way and becoming a mother has made me realize that thought process no longer serves me. I think as women we naturally push the envelope. We take on everything and constantly feel the need to prove ourselves. Motherhood has helped me to embrace rhythm. To go with the flow and be more flexible.

Do you ever feel tension between being fully present at home and fully present in your craft?

When Vincenzo was born I had mom guilt and entrepreneur guilt! When I was at work I felt guilty not being home and when I was home I felt guilty not being at the salon with my team. I am so lucky to have a supportive husband who constantly reminds me he is by my side and encouraged me to ask for help and to be gentle with myself. Now that our son is older I no longer feel that guilt. I really feel present in both worlds. Sometimes after school we come to the salon to hang out. He loves being here and talking to people. He also likes to sweep the salon!

What does guilt look like for you — and how have you learned to navigate it?

Today guilt still surfaces when I have to say no to work, friends or family. I always want to support everyone. Motherhood has taught me to set boundaries which in the long run allows me to be fully present (but there are still times I wish I could clone myself).

You specialize in blondes and balayage—looks that often make women feel like the most radiant version of themselves. Has motherhood changed how you help women feel confident?

I love this question. Helping all women feel confident will ALWAYS be at my core whether they are mothers or not, but becoming a mother now wants that for women even more. I want women to know they can do it all while still looking and feeling beautiful. I have found that the first appointment new mothers make after giving birth is at the salon. It is usually the first time they are away from their baby for a few hours and the first self-care appointment they schedule. When a mother sits in my chair, I want her to know her time is valued and I thank her for taking time out of her day, away from her family to be with me.

What do you notice about mothers who sit in your chair? Are their needs different?

Yes, their needs have definitely changed. Most mothers prefer something more low-maintenance. Considering their limited time, we come up with a plan and technique that they can easily maintain. I always recommend an at home gloss too. My favorite is the KeraColor’s High Shine Gloss. Knowing you can use a safe at home gloss that was originally created for professionals gives them a lot of ease.

Has becoming a mom changed how you define success?

Yes, that definition has definitely changed for me. Becoming a mom is my success. It is so rewarding, more than I could have ever dreamed. I am so proud of what I have built. I always knew I wanted to own a salon and be a mother, I just didn’t know which to do first. As it turns out, we started IVF the same week I opened LRN, which showed me that both were meant to be done together, not one before the other.

Has motherhood expanded your creativity or challenged it?

Without a doubt my creativity has expanded! Vincenzo has quite the imagination and he has opened up a part of my brain that I forgot about. Motherhood has brought out the child in me again and I love it. I am also a Gemini, and he is an Aquarius, so please pray for my Leo husband who is also creative but much more grounded than we are.

What has been the most humbling part of becoming a mother?

The most humbling part of motherhood is just when you think you have it down something shifts! Your child hits a milestone, they have a sleep regression, whatever it might be, you’re suddenly adjusting again. Your child grows and changes which is a reminder for you to keep evolving with them.

What surprised you most about the identity shift into motherhood?

What surprised me the most was how seeing the world through Vincenzo’s eyes made me more present and appreciative of the small things. In life, especially in NYC, it feels like we are always rushing. We always have something to do or somewhere to be. Vincenzo reminds me to stop and smell the flowers, literally.

If you could tell new moms in creative or entrepreneurial industries one thing, what would it be?

Be gentle with yourself, try to make time for yourself, even if it’s taking a bath once a week. Write down everything that makes your heart sing. Pinterest is a great place for creatives. Make a manifestation board or a board of quotes to remind you why you started! Just keep going and don’t forget to stop and smell the flowers.

There’s no denying the fact that motherhood changes your relationship with your own body in quiet, surprising ways. Sleep becomes fragmented, hormones shift, time starts to feel like something you’re constantly negotiating, and suddenly the beauty routines that once felt normal start to feel…slightly disconnected from reality.

This is something Dr. Anetta Reszko understands from both sides of the exam room.

Reszko is a Yale-trained dermatologist and Mohs surgeon whose work sits at the intersection of medicine and aesthetics. Much of her day is spent performing highly specialized procedures to remove skin cancer with extraordinary precision. But the women sitting across from her (many of them moms) aren’t coming in looking for elaborate routines or aspirational beauty standards.

They’re tired, busy, navigating pregnancy, postpartum recovery, work, family, and the thousand invisible logistics that seem to follow motherhood everywhere. What they want are solutions that make sense inside the lives they’re actually living.

As we spoke with Reszko for this edition of the Motherhood Identity Series, one idea kept surfacing: motherhood tends to sharpen your tolerance for anything unnecessary.

The 10-step skincare routine? Most mothers don’t want it. The pressure to “fix” your body after pregnancy? She’s not interested in that narrative either.

Instead, what she sees, and what many women are really looking for, are thoughtful, science-backed ways to care for themselves that don’t feel excessive or unrealistic.

Motherhood, she shared, changed how she thinks about this not just as a physician, but as a mother herself. It shifted how she approaches results, how she listens to patients, and how she thinks about the example women set for their children when it comes to caring for their own bodies.

Because kids notice more than we think. The way mothers treat themselves—their health, their skin, their wellbeing—quietly becomes part of what children learn about self-respect.

In the conversation that follows, we talk about the unglamorous motherhood realization that permanently changed how she thinks about skincare, the most common skin concerns she hears from moms, what balance actually looks like on a random Tuesday when you’re both a doctor and a parent, and the extremely simple routine she recommends for a burnt-out mom who has about two minutes to spare.

Because when life gets full, the routines that last are the ones that actually work.

You’re a Park Avenue dermatologist and a Mohs surgeon—two worlds that feel totally different. What does motherhood make you care about more: the “results,” or the “relationship”?

Motherhood has really highlighted how intertwined those two things are. In specialties such as dermatology, you cannot truly separate results from relationships. The trust I build with my patients is just as important as the outcomes we achieve together. When a patient feels heard and understood, they are more confident in their care, and that ultimately leads to better results. As a physician, I see both as essential. One simply cannot exist without the other.

What’s a very unglamorous motherhood moment that changed how you think about skincare—like, forever?

A very unglamorized moment was realizing that my children learn how to treat themselves by watching how I treat myself. That lesson extends far beyond just skincare. Children observe much more than we realize, and they internalize those habits. Taking care of your skin and your health isn’t just about appearance, it’s about modeling self-respect and self-care. If they see their mother prioritizing her wellbeing, they learn that it’s something they deserve for themselves as well.

When you’re caring for patients all day and then caring for kids at night, what’s the first thing that slips: sleep, food, workouts, skincare…or something else?

Something always has to give. Some days it’s a workout; other days it’s a little bit of sleep. There are nights when I stay up later than I should just to spend time with my children after a full day with patients. Motherhood is a constant cycle in balancing priorities. It often involves sacrifice, but it’s also incredibly rewarding to navigate both a fulfilling career and a meaningful home life.

Your career sits at the intersection of science and aesthetics (M.D./Ph.D. energy). How did motherhood shift your tolerance for “extra” versus what’s actually worth it?

Motherhood really refined my perspective on what is truly worth the time and effort. Both in my personal life and in my practice, I’ve become much more focused on efficiency and meaningful results rather than unnecessary complexity. Patients of mine that are mothers don’t want a 10-step routine or something that feels excessive. They want solutions that are thoughtful, effective, and realistic for their skin health goals. Motherhood reinforced my belief and outlook that good skincare should be streamlined and grounded in science rather than excess.

SKORR is positioned as in-office-ish results without leaving your hotel room. What’s the real origin story: was there a specific “I can’t do one more appointment” moment that led to this?

The origin really came from listening to my patients. Many of them had tried devices on the market that promised results but didn’t deliver the way they expected. At the same time, in my practice we perform a variety of in-office treatments, and I wanted my patients to have something they could use at home to help preserve and extend those results. I also recognized that many people feel overwhelmed by skincare and devices on the market. There are so many varieties of products and devices, and not every option is right for every person. I wanted to create something that felt purposeful and multifunctional, a device that could simplify routines while still delivering meaningful benefits when paired consistently with the right products.

You’re surrounded by aspirational beauty culture. What did motherhood teach you about what women actually want when they say they want to “look better”?

Motherhood really shifted my focus toward natural beauty and confidence. When you have children, especially daughters, you become very aware of the example you’re setting for them. You want them to see that confidence comes from being comfortable in your own skin. When patients say they want to “look better,” what I often hear now is that they want to feel like the best version of themselves. In my practice, I don’t approach every patient with a standard lens. I look at them as individuals and focus on enhancing their natural features rather than changing who they are.

What’s the most common skin complaint you hear from moms—and what do you think is underneath it (stress, sleep, hormones, mental load)?

The biggest skin complaint is puffiness in the face ex around the eyes due to lack of sleep, fine lines, discoloration from pregnancy hormones are the most common issues.

The most common concerns I hear from moms are puffiness, especially around the eyes, fine lines, and discoloration related to pregnancy hormones. Underneath those concerns, it’s often a combination of hormonal shifts, lack of sleep, and the emotional and physical demands that come with motherhood. Many mothers are constantly prioritizing everyone else in their families, which means they rarely take time for themselves. Due to this, I try to spend extra time with patients who are pregnant, postpartum, or navigating motherhood for the first time. Making sure they feel heard and supported is just as important as addressing their skin concerns.

You’ve had major press attention around SKORR GLOW (hello, Julianne Moore). What’s been surreal about building a product that suddenly lives beyond your practice walls?

The most surreal moment is seeing people connect with the device in the same way I do. When you create something from the ground up, you pour an enormous amount of time, energy, and thought into every detail. Watching patients and people outside of my practice genuinely love the device, and incorporate it into their routines, has been incredibly meaningful. Seeing the device become part of people’s real, everyday skincare routines has been the most rewarding part of the process.

You’ve spoken about balancing your career with your family—what does “balance” look like in real life on a random Tuesday, not in theory?

In real life, balance rarely ever looks perfect. On a typical Tuesday it might mean seeing patients all day, answering emails between cases, and then going straight home to dinner, homework, and bedtime routines with my children. Some nights I’m reviewing cases after they’re asleep, other nights I intentionally close my laptop and focus entirely on being present with my family. Balance, for me, isn’t about dividing time evenly, it’s about being fully engaged in whichever role I’m in at that moment.

What’s something you used to judge other moms for (even quietly) before you had kids—and what do you think now?

Before I had children, I didn’t fully understand when mothers would say they were too overwhelmed or busy to dedicate time for themselves. I remember thinking that self-care should always be manageable. After becoming a mother my perspective completely changed. Your priorities shift in a profound way; your world begins to revolve around your children and your family. It gave me a much deeper appreciation for how much mothers give parts of themselves every single day.

What does your kids seeing you as a doctor/founder teach them—and what has it taught you about ambition?

I hope it teaches my children that life is truly what you make of it. They see me as both a physician and a very present, involved mother, and they understand that it takes effort and dedication. More than anything, I want them to know that if you have passion and commitment, you can accomplish what you set your mind to. Ambition doesn’t mean sacrificing the people you love, it means building a life that reflects what matters most to you.

If you could design the “nervous system skincare routine” for a burnt-out mom (2 minutes, max), what are the non-negotiables?

I would keep it extremely simple and focused on essentials. A gentle hydrating cleanser, a Vitamin C serum in the morning, and a retinol at night. Those three steps cover some of the most important foundations of skincare. The cleanser removes impurities and maintains hydration, Vitamin C provides antioxidant protection against environmental damages, and retinol supports cell turnover and helps improve fine lines and overall skin texture. It’s a streamlined routine that can still deliver meaningful results that isn’t overwhelming.

What’s a beauty rule you hate that moms are still being sold—and what would you replace it with?

One beauty message I strongly dislike is the idea that women need to “fix” their postpartum bodies or immediately erase every sign of pregnancy and aging. Women should be much kinder to themselves: physically, emotionally, and mentally, especially after carrying and giving birth to a child. The body goes through incredible changes, and those changes deserve patience and respect. Instead of focusing on “fixing,” I would encourage women to focus on supporting their bodies and caring for themselves in a way that feels healthy and sustainable.

If you weren’t allowed to talk about products at all, what would you say is the most underrated “skin tool” mothers have access to?

At-home devices that use radiofrequency and micro electroporation can be incredibly effective tools. When those two technologies are combined, they can support skin tightening, improve product absorption, and overall skin health. A lot of mothers find these appealing to them because they’re efficient and easy to incorporate into a busy schedule. They don’t require a large time commitment but can still provide meaningful support to a consistent skincare routine.

Want to Nominate Someone for the Motherhood Identity Series?

The Motherhood Identity Series exists to spotlight women navigating the real, complicated, and transformative terrain of motherhood—founders, creators, leaders, artists and mothers whose stories challenge how we talk about identity, ambition, and becoming.

If you know someone whose story deserves to be told — or if you’re interested in being interviewed yourself — we’d love to hear from you.

📩 Email Jenn at jenn@milaandjomedia.com with a brief note about who you are (or who you’re nominating) and why their story feels meaningful right now.

We’re always listening.

If you spend enough time talking to mothers who are building companies, creative work or careers they care deeply about, you start to notice something interesting.

Very few of them describe ambition the same way they did before they had children.

Pre-motherhood, ambition feels relatively straightforward. It’s all about forward motion—climbing, achieving, expanding your world. Your time largely belongs to you, and the way you measure success tends to revolve around what you’re building and where it’s taking you.

Motherhood complicates that equation in ways that are hard to anticipate until you’re living inside it.

Suddenly the stakes of your work feel different, your time becomes a far more precious resource and the version of ambition that once felt natural begins to evolve into something more layered—something tied not only to what you want for yourself, but also to what you want your children to see.

This week’s Motherhood Identity Series conversation is with Shannon Davenport, founder and CEO of Esker and a mother of three.

Before starting her company, Davenport spent years working as a trend forecaster in New York, traveling constantly and studying emerging movements across beauty, culture, and consumer behavior. It was a career defined by speed and curiosity—watching what was coming next and helping companies understand where the world was headed.

But like many women navigating demanding industries, she eventually began to question the pace she was keeping and the habits that came along with it. What started as a personal interest in aromatherapy and wellness slowly grew into something larger: an exploration of what body care could look like if it were rooted in ritual and intention rather than convenience.

That exploration eventually became Esker. Today, Davenport is building her company while raising three young children, and her reflections on motherhood feel refreshingly honest in a space that often rewards polished narratives.

In the conversation that follows, she reflects on ambition, motherhood, friendship, uncertainty, and the lessons she hopes her children absorb simply by watching her build something of her own.

Because for many women, motherhood doesn’t end the story of who they are. It becomes the moment the story begins to expand.

Before becoming a mother, how did you define yourself? What identities felt most central to who you were?

Before kids, I had a really involved career as a trend forecaster in New York that took me all around the world—London, Seoul, everywhere. I was on a plane constantly and I loved it. I was very social, I threw dinner parties, kept in touch with friends from every city I’d lived in or traveled to. My world was big and fast and full. But honestly, I was also really stressed.

Over time I’d accumulated a lot of unhealthy behaviors just from the pace of it all—stress smoking cigarettes on my lunch break, going for drinks after work, running on caffeine. I didn’t fully see it at the time, but I was on an unsustainable path.

Was there a specific pivotal moment in your life that set you on the path to founding your company?

I genuinely loved my job—I loved trends, I loved beauty, I loved tracking what was coming next. I was enamored by my work. But I was also watching this new generation of better-for-you brands emerge and feeling really inspired by what they were doing. I knew I needed a break from the grind, so I enrolled in aromatherapy school on nights and weekends while still working full-time. That decision changed everything.

Studying aromatherapy sparked all these ideas about what bodycare could be—clean, intentional, rooted in ritual—and that’s where Esker was born. It wasn’t one dramatic moment. It was a slow burn idea that happened while I was learning to take better care of myself.

How has your relationship with ambition evolved since becoming a mother?

Actually the opposite of what people might expect—I’m more ambitious than ever. Being a mother has made me more fearless. I have two daughters and a little boy, and I want to model for them what big ambitions look like. I want my girls especially to see how powerful they can be in the world as young women. It’s only after falling down and failing repeatedly that I’ve realized this about myself—that my kids give me strength.

Every time I think about playing it safe, I think about them watching me, and I want them to see me who go for it, even when it’s scary.

What does productivity actually look like in your life right now?

If I’m being honest? I’m having a terrible time with productivity right now, especially in the current state of the world. I have ADHD, and between the ever-ongoing onslaught of notifications and the “toggle tax”—constantly switching between apps, tasks, roles—it’s really hard to get into any kind of flow. I’m a mom, a founder, a friend, a wife, a human being, and all of those versions of me are being pinged at the same time. I don’t have a neat answer for how I manage it because I’m still figuring it out. But I’m trying to give myself grace instead of beating myself up about it, which is progress.

What’s one pressure of being a working mother that you think people don’t talk about enough?

It’s really virtually impossible to feel like you’re doing a good job at both, work and motherhood, at the same time. And that really sucks. There’s no way around it. You’re always shortchanging one side. But I’m also more grateful for my kids because of it, because they help put the stress of work into perspective. They are healthy and beautiful and smart, and no matter what happens with work—a deal falls through, a launch doesn’t land—I always have that. My kids are the great equalizer. They remind me what actually matters when the work stress starts to feel like the whole world.

How did your relationship with your body change during pregnancy and postpartum, and how does it continue to evolve?

I’m going to be really honest: I hated being pregnant. I felt sick constantly and I was very sensitive to hormonal shifts, so I was throwing up for most of all three pregnancies and I felt swollen and achey. Before kids, my body had been fairly unchanging throughout the years, and the way it stretched and changed during pregnancy freaked me out initially. Especially going from having small boobs to giant boobs back to extra-small flat boobs after nursing three kids. My body has been through a lot, and my relationship with it is still evolving. I think the biggest shift is that I’ve moved from expecting my body to stay the same to appreciating everything it’s done.

At what point did self-care shift from something optional to something necessary?

It actually started before kids, when I was at the peak of my career. I was on a plane once a week, stress-smoking cigarettes on my lunch break, and going out for drinks after work. I was a mess, honestly. When I moved in with my then-boyfriend, now husband, we started to shift into a slower and more intentional rhythm. Evening bathing became a time for us to connect and talk after a long day. By the time I had kids, that practice was already in place, and it became the thing that kept me sane.

What does your current body care routine look like, and which Esker product is your non-negotiable?

My non-negotiable right now is our Bubble Soak—it’s our newest product and I’m just in love with it. I’ve been doing a lot of lymphatic work at home and taking lots of magnesium bubble baths lately. I’m also on a mission to make my bathroom the prettiest room in my house so it feels amazing when I’m in it—and I love the way the Bubble Soak looks on the shelf. It’s one of those products that makes the whole ritual feel more elevated. The bathroom should be your sanctuary and I’m really leaning into that right now.

What’s one thing about motherhood that you feel is deeply underestimated?

The physical toll, yes—but also how everything is a phase. Your kids are always changing, and so are you. Just when you think you’ve figured out the rhythm, something shifts—a new developmental stage, a new school, a new version of your child emerging overnight. And you’re changing right alongside them. I think people underestimate how much personal evolution is baked into motherhood. It’s not a static role. It’s constant transformation, and that can be both exciting and exhausting.

How do you deal with uncertainty and the loss of control that comes with both motherhood and entrepreneurship?

I’m not sure I’m dealing with it properly, if I’m being honest. But it’s all an exercise in letting go, which is a lot of work for me as a person who cares deeply and has a lot of feelings. I’m just trying to give myself grace and remind myself that this too shall pass. I don’t have some polished framework for handling uncertainty. I just try to stay present, keep showing up, and not spiral when things feel out of my control—which is often, in both motherhood and business.

Do you ever grieve the version of yourself that existed before kids?

I miss alone time and quiet time to really think and reflect. That’s the thing that’s hardest to squeeze in when you’re building a company and a family at the same time. I used to have hours to sit with my thoughts, listen to podcasts, wander. Now those moments are rare. But I also know that before I know it, my kids will be teens and won’t want to hang out with me, and I’ll have all the alone time in the world and probably miss the chaos. So I’m trying to hold both truths at once—I miss the quiet, and I know this loud, full season is fleeting.

How have you set boundaries in your life to protect both your family and your work?

We eat dinner together at the table every night, and I make sure to be with the kids to reflect on their day. I’ll often work in the evening if I don’t finish by 5 or 6ish, but I pause at that point no matter what to be with them. I usually pick up a little work after bedtime, but that dinner to bedtime window is protected. It’s not a perfect system, but it means my kids know that I can’t wait to see them and hear about their day.

How have your relationships evolved since becoming a mother?

I’ve never been more grateful for my female friends and my mom friends. I’m finding so much strength in the company of other women lately, and I’m incredibly grateful for my community. There’s something about this stage of life where we it feels like we truly need each other as we raise little humans in this world. Many friendships have gotten deeper, more honest, and more sustaining. I think motherhood strips away the superficial and what’s left is the good stuff.

What’s a conversation about motherhood that you think we need to be having more honestly?

That you really can’t do it all—not at the same time. I think we should think about motherhood more as different seasons. You can lean into different parts of yourself and hit different goals at different times. Right now, I’m not exercising or reading books like I’d like to be, but I’m really making inroads at work and in my activism. Things ebb and flow. That’s just life with finite hours in a day. The sooner we stop pretending we can have every plate spinning perfectly at once, the better.

How has becoming a mother made you a better leader or founder?

Now that I’m a mom, I’m much more conscious of the energy I’m bringing to my team. I want the people I work with to enjoy their job. Work should be fun and exciting—but not something that you bring home with you in a heavy way. At least not the work we do. Motherhood taught me that the emotional residue of your workday doesn’t just affect you—it affects your whole family. So I’m much more intentional now about protecting the energy of my company and my home and also trying to create a positive environment for my team.

What do you hope your children learn from watching you build Esker?

The cliché answer is that they can do anything—but we’re actually learning entrepreneurialism together, which is the fun part. My girls love selling things in front of our house—lemonade, Sanrio stickers, rocks, popcorn, whatever they can get their hands on—and they actually do pretty well because they sell hard and they’re cute. We are doing math together to calculate their margins! I love that they’re learning the mechanics of business and having fun with it. I hope they carry that energy forward—the idea that building something can be playful and ambitious at the same time.

What would you tell your pre-motherhood self?

I would just be so much nicer to myself. I was so hard on myself as a younger woman—about my body, my career, my choices, all of it. And now that I’m a mom, I wouldn’t want that for my girls. I wouldn’t want them to talk to themselves the way I used to talk to myself. So if I could go back, I’d say: ease up. You’re doing better than you think. And the things you’re beating yourself up about won’t matter in ten years, but the way you treat yourself will.

Want to Nominate Someone for the Motherhood Identity Series?

The Motherhood Identity Series exists to spotlight women navigating the real, complicated, and transformative terrain of motherhood—founders, creators, leaders, artists and mothers whose stories challenge how we talk about identity, ambition, and becoming.

If you know someone whose story deserves to be told — or if you’re interested in being interviewed yourself — we’d love to hear from you.

📩 Email Jenn at jenn@milaandjomedia.com with a brief note about who you are (or who you’re nominating) and why their story feels meaningful right now.

We’re always listening.

Long before she became a mom, Lily Collins-Sak built her career around understanding the body.

As the founder of The Daily Pilates, a fast-growing studio and wellness brand grounded in thoughtful movement, Lily spent years studying how bodies strengthen, recover, and adapt. With a background in Kinesiology and Exercise Science, she developed a philosophy of fitness that prioritizes sustainability over intensity—helping women move in ways that feel supportive, intelligent and deeply connected to how the body actually functions.

But pregnancy has a way of humbling even the most knowledgeable among us.

For Lily, entering motherhood meant stepping into an experience she had spent years guiding others through professionally—only this time, it was her own body doing the changing. The subtle shifts in breath, the deep core engagement she had coached clients to find, the physical and emotional recalibrations of postpartum recovery suddenly felt less theoretical and far more personal.

What she discovered was something many women recognize the moment they become mothers: the body is far wiser than we often give it credit for.

In the early days of life with her newborn daughter, Lily finds herself navigating a season that feels both familiar and entirely new. Her background in movement science gives her a framework for understanding what her body is doing, but lived experience has introduced a different kind of knowledge—one rooted in intuition, patience, and a growing respect for the nonlinear nature of healing.

At the same time, motherhood has begun to reshape how she approaches the work she’s built.

Where her days once started in full founder mode—mentally organizing tasks, planning studio operations, thinking several steps ahead—her mornings now begin somewhere much quieter. With a baby in her arms and a new rhythm unfolding at home, Lily describes a shift toward presence: a desire to move through her days with more intention about where her energy goes and what truly matters in this season of life.

That perspective is beginning to influence the way she thinks about wellness, too.

For someone who has long championed balanced, sustainable fitness, becoming a mother has only deepened the belief that movement should support life—not compete with it. Strength now looks a little different than it once did. Slower, perhaps. More intuitive. Less about pushing through and more about learning when to pause, reset, and care for the body that has just done something extraordinary.

In this conversation for The Motherhood Identity Series, Lily reflects on what it’s been like to move from teaching women about their bodies to experiencing one of the most profound physical transformations firsthand. She talks about the surprising lessons pregnancy and postpartum have offered, how motherhood is quietly reshaping her relationship with ambition and work, and why listening to your body may be the most powerful skill a woman can develop.

Because sometimes the most meaningful understanding doesn’t come from studying the body.

It comes from living inside it while it changes.

You’ve spent your career understanding the body through kinesiology and movement science. How did experiencing pregnancy and postpartum change the way you understand your own body?

I’ve spent decades deepening my understanding of exercise science and studying prenatal/postpartum movement, but experiencing pregnancy firsthand has given me a whole new layer of respect for the body’s intelligence and adaptability.

What surprised me most was how it felt to experience the internal sensations I’ve been cueing clients to connect with for years. Feeling the change in deep core engagement, the shifts in breath, the changes in stability, it was actually really fun to feel what I’ve always asked others to tune into during their journeys. There’s something incredibly humbling and affirming about realizing, “Oh, THIS is what it feels like.”

Postpartum has added another layer of growth. It’s reminded me that healing isn’t linear and that even with knowledge and preparation, every body responds differently. Did becoming a mother change how you approached wellness personally?

Absolutely. Sleep became sacred. I became even more intentional about nourishing myself because I understood that my energy affected everyone in my home and set an example for my children.

It also deepened my philosophy that skin is an outer reflection of inner health. When you’re exhausted or depleted, your skin reflects it. Motherhood reinforced for me that wellness is foundational. Taking care of myself wasn’t selfish. It was essential.

Was there a moment after becoming a mom when you realized motherhood had shifted your identity—not just your routine? What did that moment look like?

I’ve often referred to my businesses as my babies, nurturing, growing, and giving them all the energy they needed to succeed. I think that mindset and experience has prepared me for the responsibility and unknowns of having a child. Motherhood has started to reshape me though and how I now approach each day. I used to wake up immediately in to-do list checkoff business mode, mentally organizing the day ahead. Now, my first instinct is to think about my daughter and the love I just want to pour into her! I am feeling more present and intentional with how I plan to spend my energy moving forward.

Before having a baby, what did you imagine motherhood would feel like—and what surprised you most once you were actually in it?

I’ve always been someone who prepares, plans, and perfects so I assumed I’d approach motherhood the same way. Now that I am experiencing it I’m surprised to let go of this approach and just slow down and let intuition lead, let her guide us. She shows me what she needs. She teaches me her rhythms. I’m seeing that love, consistency and attunement matter more than doing everything “right.”

Your work centers on intentional movement and balanced wellness. How has your definition of “strength” changed since becoming a mother?

Honestly, I don’t know that my definition of strength has changed but it has definitely deepened.

I’ve always believed strength is about a healthy amount of discipline, balance, patience, and consistently. Motherhood has really expanded this for me. Postpartum hormones, bringing a new life into the world, and adjusting to an entirely new rhythm tested me emotionally at times in ways I could never have trained for.

I’ve learned that strength isn’t just about pushing through. It’s also about finding outlets like meditation or pilates to help regulate when emotions feel intense, taking breaks to rest without guilt, and choosing presence as much as possible. It’s a quieter, more grounded kind of power and in many ways, it’s stronger than I ever understood before.

As someone trained in exercise science, did postpartum recovery feel empowering because of your knowledge—or humbling in unexpected ways?

Both! My background and experience with others gave me the confidence and reminder to approach recovery intentionally, really slowing down in the first few weeks, listening to my body, and using breath and gentle reformer work to heal safely. At the same time, I was extremely humbled by the hormonal shifts, physical discomfort and reality that healing can’t be rushed. My family and friends really helped me in understanding the normalcy of what I was experiencing, it’s something no amount of training can truly prepare you for!

Have your expectations around fitness, productivity or physical progress softened or shifted since entering this season of life?

Absolutely, I think there’s more of an emphasis now on working out in a way that supports me feeling my best each day. It’s less about the quantity of workouts in a week or how long I spend exercising, and more more about moving in a way that supports what I need. I’m prioritizing more meditative breath work to help balance my responsibilities, mobility to keep me moving efficiently, and mindful strength training that helps me stay strong for my every day tasks like picking up baby girl! This season of life has made me prioritize caring for my body in a sustainable, nourishing way that I enjoy.

You founded The Daily Pilates from a place of thoughtful, sustainable movement. How has becoming a new mom influenced the way you want women to experience fitness through your brand?

My goal since opening TDP has been for women to look forward to fitness and leave our doors feeling better, both physically and mentally, knowing that taking care of themselves first allows them to show up stronger for others. Becoming a new mom has deepened that understanding. I now truly feel how important it is, but I also see how intimidating it can feel to start something new or return to exercise when your body feels different. Every new mom should feel safe, supported, and cared for and have a place to reconnect with her body and enjoy movement without pressure. I hope our studios can be that outlet, where wellness feels accessible, empowering, and nurturing at every stage, for every one.

Do you feel your work now carries a different emotional weight or purpose compared to before motherhood?

For sure. My mom ran her business from our home growing up and I witnessed her commitment and drive that helped give me the confidence to pursue my own dreams. Whatever my daughter decides to do, I want to show her that it can be done and inspire her in the same way.

How do you balance showing up as a founder and instructor while also allowing yourself to be in a slower, more tender postpartum chapter?

I’m still on maternity leave, which has been so special. I’ve paused teaching for now, but I still check in with the franchise each week, usually during her little 10:30–noon nap window.

Sometimes I’ll pop her in the baby carrier so she’s right there with me while I get a few things done. It has me moving slower, focusing on what truly matters, and soaking up this season. It feels really sweet to be able to stay connected to my work while keeping her close at the same time.

Many mothers talk about feeling both more themselves and completely new at the same time. Has that duality shown up for you?

She has me tapping back into my softer, more playful self. When I first started TDP, I got a small play button tattoo on my wrist to remind myself to “press play” and have a little fun even when work gets challenging. I think she does this for me as well!

What parts of your pre-motherhood identity have stayed constant—and what parts feel like they’re still evolving? The steady, driven side of me has definitely stayed constant. I’ve always been organized, structured, and intentional and that’s carried into how I care for her. I love creating a rhythm to our days and making sure she feels safe and supported. That foundation of discipline and consistency still feels very “me.”

What’s evolving is how I handle control and problem-solving. I’m used to fixing things quickly and efficiently, but motherhood is teaching me to slow down, to sit in the unknown, and to trust more. I’m also becoming softer with myself, more patient, more present, less focused on doing everything perfectly.

Has motherhood changed your relationship with ambition or success? If so, how?

Motherhood has made ambition feel more balanced. I still have big goals and dreams for TDP, but now more than ever it’s, How can I go after this without running myself into the ground? I want to build amazing things and still have the energy to be fully with her.

She honestly makes me want to achieve even more but in a way that feels sustainable and joyful. It’s not just about success anymore. It’s about creating a life where I can work with my team to work towards our goals while being the kind of mom I’m proud of at the same time.

What’s a part of early motherhood that you wish more women talked about openly?

How labor and hormones affect the body physically and emotionally and the best ways to support the healing process. We spend so much time preparing for the baby, what to expect, how to care for them… but not nearly enough time preparing for how to care for ourselves. I think more conversation around how to truly support the healing process would set women up to feel stronger and more confident in those early weeks.

I’d also love to see hospitals focus on postpartum support in a way that feels more nurturing, elevated, and beautiful and less clinical. Spa-like rooms catering to postpartum that has everything you need, from products to services, all in one calm, beautiful space would be magical for a new mom!

In moments when you feel disconnected from yourself, what helps you come back home to who you are?

I love coming back home to the simple, cozy things. A long, warm bath, a good face mask, a lemon ginger tea, just letting myself relax. Cuddling on the couch with my family, watching the little moments unfold. Turning on a good playlist, lighting a fire, whatever helps me disconnect and just let the world slow down.

What kind of example do you hope your child grows up seeing in you—as a woman, not just as a mother?

I hope she sees a woman who goes after her dreams with courage and curiosity, who works hard but also knows how to rest and take care of herself. Someone who leads with kindness, makes mistakes, learns from them, and keeps showing up anyway. I want her to see that it’s possible to be ambitious, joyful, and compassionate all at once and that being your genuine self is the most powerful example of all.

If you could speak to yourself during the early newborn days, what would you want her to know?

I am still in the early newborn days so I am constantly reminding myself to soak up these tiny moments and let her know and feel loved and cared for as much as I can!

There are moments in motherhood when the ground beneath you quietly shifts. Sometimes it happens the first time you realize someone else depends on you for absolutely everything. Sometimes it arrives later—during the toddler years, the school years or the complicated emotional terrain of raising children who are becoming fully themselves. But at some point, most mothers recognize the same truth: motherhood doesn’t simply add another role to your life; it changes the person living it.

The woman who once imagined motherhood from the outside rarely remains exactly the same once she’s inside it.

It’s a transformation that can feel disorienting and expansive at the same time. One day you’re navigating the logistics of family life—diapers, carpools, snack schedules—and the next you’re confronting deeper questions about identity, expectations, control and who you are becoming alongside your children.

This tension between growth and grounding is at the heart of our Motherhood Identity Series, where we sit down with women whose perspectives help illuminate what this season of life really asks of us.

Few people explore personal transformation with as much depth and honesty as Monica Berg.

A spiritual teacher, bestselling author and co-host of the podcast Spiritually Hungry, Berg has built much of her work around one central idea: meaningful change doesn’t happen by accident, but rather it begins with a willingness to look inward—to question the narratives we carry, the expectations we inherit and the ways our own ego can quietly shape the way we show up in relationships.

Motherhood, as she sees it, accelerates that process in ways few other experiences can.

In our conversation, Berg shares what motherhood has taught her about letting go of control, raising children with compassion, nurturing partnership and continuing to evolve as both a parent and a person.

Much of your work centers on the idea that change begins within us. How does motherhood challenge — and sometimes accelerate — that inner transformation?

Being a mother—by any definition—requires us to stretch and change over and over (and over) again.

I know that I am not the same person who dreamed a dream for my unborn children or who feared motherhood, survived toddler tantrums, and played taxi to a gaggle of kindergartners. My children have grown and so have I. If we’re lucky, we’ll all continue to evolve, both individually and together. We will keep engaging each other. Amusing each other. Challenging each other.

As they say, Once a mother, always a mother. That’s the one–and perhaps the only–thing that will never change. That’s the forever part, the part that transforms us from the inside out.

Many women describe motherhood as both a deep expansion and an identity shake-up. Why does this season bring up such profound internal shifts?

Never could we have imagined someone being so dependent on us. It’s pure bliss. AND PURE TERROR. When you realize that you are a MOTHER and that this tiny being relies on YOU for her every need, your entire self-concept is shattered–then rebuilt–in the same instant.

And if you have a child who has special needs (as happened with our son, Josh), you go through yet another level of shifting and fear. Through it all, you grow both your knowledge and your capacity not only to love but to accept and handle whatever comes your way. You swerve. You bend. You lose sleep and fall out of touch with the world for a while. The depth and breadth of your role hits you–this is for life.

You often speak about the transition from “me” to “we.” How can mothers stay connected to themselves while fully showing up for their families?

Moving from me to we in any relationship, including the relationship with our children, is always about identifying where our ego is still running the show. We do this by consistently assessing what illusions we have about motherhood. Asking questions like:

What illusions might I have about what motherhood should look and feel like?
What illusions do I have about being a mother?
Do I believe I have to sacrifice every part of my being?
Do you think motherhood is going to fill a void I have?
What expectations do I have of becoming a mother or a parent?

From there, mothers can go even deeper by examining the stories they might tell themselves about motherhood. This can look like: Examining what you were told about motherhood by your mother or the women in your life. Was it a story that sounded like a fairytale or a horror movie? Distinguishing fact from fiction is an ongoing part of being able to fully show up authentically.

And lastly, really taking a look at our egos. They are responsible for things like comparison or thinking our children are extensions of ourselves instead of their own unique, individual beings. Just like in our romantic partnerships, getting really clear on what we’re bringing into the relationship will keep us from sabotaging it.

Parenting often brings unexpected lessons about control, expectations, and patience. What has motherhood personally taught you about letting go of control?

My second born, Josh, was diagnosed with Down Syndrome shortly after his birth. All the information I received from well-meaning doctors and nurses was that his potential was hopelessly limited. A grim reality.

I’ve spent all 24 years of his life witnessing something profound and true. His life is filled with meaning only others can imagine. His days are filled with kindness, empathy, and an excitement for life that comes from deep within his soul. And with every glance, both spoken and unspoken words, with a knowing stare, he shows me when I start to veer into the illusion of this world, like becoming too focused on what people think of me. For me to hear the whisper of his soul to mine I have to train myself over and over again.

I could have allowed this painful and frightening experience to define me and define my child, or I could see it for what it actually was: a huge opportunity. I chose change. I chose to embrace my son and discover the beauty of his soul and all he could offer. I am so glad I did. It may not have made things instantly okay or without challenge, but the gifts and the blessings are too many to count. It was through this that I came to truly realize that in change, there is great power.

Partnership can shift dramatically after children enter the picture. What helps couples grow together—rather than drift apart—during the parenting years?

Laughter and levity! When we had three children under the age of six, our family was invited to a birthday party for the child of new friends. We looked forward to attending and getting to know their family better. We dressed for the celebration, piled all three children into the car, and headed for the party with plenty of time to spare. You know how they say “the best laid plans often go awry”? Our new friends’ home turned out to be in a part of Los Angeles I had never visited before, complete with a warren of small streets and poorly marked intersections. That afternoon, we went awry.

Before long, we were not just lost, we were hopelessly bewildered. As we drove around and around the unfamiliar streets, things went from bad to worse. The children became hungry. One had a wet diaper and another a soiled diaper.

Eventually, exasperated, I pulled the car over to the side of the road and cut off the engine. Michael and I were both on the precipice. We prepared to vent our frustration at each other, but when our eyes met, something shifted. It’s as if we shared the same thought: this was just a birthday party. We smiled at each other and it instantly shifted the tension. We surrendered to the moment instead of trying to control it. We were totally lost, sitting in a hot car with cranky babies and poopy diapers. We were never going to make it to this party. So, we just lost it. We both started laughing uncontrollably.

Be a good friend: Refocus the time you get together on being their friend and enjoying each other.

Be likable, be a friend. Happy relationships rely far more on how much fun you have as a couple rather than successful conflict resolution.

The bottom line is that you and your partner are friends. And good friends set aside their desire to vent and instead defuse the tension because they prioritize the relationship and their love over all else (even though they may not be feeling loving in that moment). Rather than succumb to a moment’s outburst (no matter how tempting it may be at the time), find a way to make it funny. Make an observation, reference an inside joke, or draw a parallel with something humorous you two experienced recently.

The spiritual core reason for friendship especially as it pertains to our relationships and our spouses is that it can and is meant to help us change and evolve. I can’t overestimate how important a friendship with benefits is to our growth in life.

Friendship fuels the flame of love, because it offers the best protection against feeling adversarial toward your spouse despite inevitable disagreements. Friends set aside their desire to vent and instead defuse the situation, because they prioritize the relationship and their love over a moment’s outburst.

When positive thoughts outweigh the negative feelings it takes much more significant conflict to lose your equilibrium as a couple. These couples are generally more hopeful, they look forward to spending their lives together, and, when obstacles arise, they are able to give each other the benefit of the doubt.

To be a great friend, we must first look at ourselves to see what it is that we are actually creating for the other person. This is one of the many counter-intuitive teachings of Kabbalah: If you want something you have to first give it.

Mothers frequently carry the invisible emotional labor of family life. How can couples begin having healthier conversations about the mental load without resentment building?

Resentment shortchanges us every time because we can’t live authentically and be feeling resentment. Again, resentment happens over time. If we are advocating for ourselves, expressing ourselves and our desires, and setting (and holding) healthy boundaries there is no room for resentment. When we’re empowering ourselves by taking responsibility for us and us alone, we are no longer victims. Resentment may feel like strength but it isn’t. It can, however, be an ally.

The hidden gift of resentment is that it can show you where you’re in integrity—and where you aren’t. Being judgmental and resentful means that you are overly focused on the other person and where they aren’t meeting your expectations. When we are focusing on where others are wrong we aren’t seeing where we need to grow. If you are judging someone for being hypocritical, can you feel where you might be hypocritical? If you’re resentful of the fact that your spouse never helps around the house, can you see where you might be resistant to receiving their help? If you are judging someone for being overbearing and are resenting them for never listening to you, can you see where you might be overbearing somewhere in your life? Where do you refuse to listen?

The key to eliminating resentment from your life is by accepting the invitation it is extending to you: look more closely at yourself. Integrity looks like taking responsibility for everything you say, feel, and do. It’s making a commitment to speaking up and sharing your feelings genuinely and respectfully. It’s about being true to your word. When we come into this kind of integrity a sense of joy and freedom permeates our lives. We live in harmony with those around us and no longer relinquish our power to the people in our lives who challenge us. We can create this shift by getting curious.

When you notice your feelings of resentment arise, start asking questions. You can even start a journal practice around this if it helps you to observe your thoughts more easily. What are some questions you can ask to help you uncover what your resentment is trying to show you?

Parenting children with different personalities and needs can stretch us in unexpected ways. How has your own parenting journey shaped the way you think about resilience and compassion?

We’ve done several episodes on reincarnation lately, and one thing we know for certain is that our four children came into this world with very different and very specific natures. Our role as parents is to guide them. We see and encourage their inherently positive traits like kindness, creativity, or empathy. That’s the easier part.

Guiding them against their nature is trickier. Some kids are procrastinators, some kids give up at the first sign of difficulty, others kids are fearful, shy, or distrusting. Some children, if left to their own devices, would watch tv or play games for 18 hours straight, only moving to eat and use the bathroom. Some kids have an inherent need to please and are excellent at following directions, other kids lose their train of thought before they’ve even left the room.

Kids come into this world with instincts they can’t understand and are equally unable to explain. What if your 7 year old steals—a friend’s lunch money or even money out of your wallet at home when no one is looking? One common mistake parents make is shaming their children. One example of shaming is if she is made to write a letter to her friend apologizing—the result of which is that she’s shunned and ostracized at school. She doesn’t understand her motivation so how can parents possibly understand? And all that negative attention and those draconian consequences haven’t stopped the behavior.

Instead of shaming and blaming, what are our options? An unconditional parent could get curious. If I don’t stop this behavior now will my child grow up to be a bank robber or international jewel thief? Not likely! If she’s allowed to do little chores around the house and earn her own money would that assuage her compulsion to steal from others? Maybe, maybe not, but it’s worth a try.

Unconditional parenting means we accept our children for who they are but it doesn’t mean we are blind to their flaws.

Many mothers quietly feel pressure to “do everything right.” How can parents release perfectionism while still remaining intentional in how they show up?

Perfectionism is about insecurity—and we will all bump up against insecurity at one time or another as parents. There are two questions to ask when this happens:

1. What’s the worst that’s going to happen here?
When you’re feeling insecure or anxious about a situation, pause for a moment and ask yourself, “What’s the worst that’s going to happen here?” By doing this, you’re stepping outside of the immediate emotional response and encouraging critical thinking about the actual consequences of the situation. Often, you’ll find that the worst-case scenario is either highly unlikely or something you can handle. Even this realization can significantly minimize the intensity of those insecure feelings. Here’s a step-by-step guide to approaching this:

Identify the Fear: Clearly define what you’re insecure about. Is it fear of failure, embarrassment, or fear of losing an important relationship? Get really clear on what you’re fearing will happen.

Imagine the Worst-Case Scenario: Think about the absolute worst outcome that could realistically happen. Be specific in your analysis and really lean into making it as horrible as you can imagine! This one is counterintuitive because one of the tools to stop fear in its tracks is to stop catastrophizing. Here’s the difference, though: if you consciously and mindfully catastrophize, you should realize just how ridiculous and unlikely that outcome is. If this tool doesn’t work for you, try the opposite. Instead, visualize the best possible outcome.

Plan for the Worst: Even if you feel it’s unlikely, you can still plan ahead. What are the things you could do to handle the worst-case scenario?

Remember, You’ll Bounce Back: Things are rarely as awful as we imagine they’ll be. Winston Churchill put it eloquently, “Success is not final, failure is not fatal. It is the courage to continue that counts.”

2. Why do I fear this experience?
This follow-up question serves to get to the root of the insecurity, which is the first step in eradicating it. It is a powerful technique for confronting and understanding why certain people and situations bring up insecurities. Beneath the insecurity is an array of negative thought patterns and limiting beliefs that may need to be examined, and this question is the door to that exploration.

Why do I fear having a difficult conversation?
Why am I resisting taking action on this?
Why do the photos of that influencer’s perfect house make me feel bad?

This self-reflective approach also helps to build a greater sense of control over your emotional responses—the key to diminishing your insecurities’ powers over time. When you can ask these questions, you’re inviting rational thought into the mix, which also helps you view the situation from a grounded, intellectual place.

When someone feels like they have “lost themselves” in motherhood, where is the first place you suggest they begin finding themselves again?

Make Time to Simply BE. There’s a reason for recess, playdates and parks with swings and sand pits. PLAY is not only important to all children from an entertainment perspective; it’s also essential for inner growth. According to biological anthropologist Dr. Gwen DeWar, “Play and exploration lead to neurogenesis—the birth of new brain cells—in the part of the hippocampus that plays a key role in learning and memory.”

Through play, we discover, unimpeded. Play lets us connect with our own rhythms and be in the moment–away from the pressures we often feel to produce or be “on” for the world. And that can do wonders for every other part of our lives!

Similarly beneficial is the practice of “non-time”–which is play’s less interactive cousin. To illustrate: Some of Albert Einstein’s best ideas came to him while bobbing silently in his sailboat. Steve Jobs came upon some of his most revolutionary breakthroughs while mindlessly daydreaming. The lesson? The luxury of boredom is far from a waste of time.

When you think about the adults you hope your children become, what qualities matter most to you — and how does that shape the way you parent today?

The best we can hope for is that our children will meet the world with principles and aspirations of their own. They may be in lockstep with us–or not even close. Yet when they come back for our approval or advice or blessings, we know we’ve done our job. We can strive to provide these without smothering (it’s no accident that “mother” appears in that word!). Most of all, we can respect and love them for simply being who they are. Likewise, we can rediscover who we are and forge a new path for who we might yet become.

Our children have grown (though not all have flown), and so have I. If we’re lucky, we’ll all continue to evolve, both individually and together. We will keep engaging each other. Amusing each other. Challenging each other.

That’s the one–and perhaps the only–thing that will never change. That’s the forever part, the part that transforms us from the inside out. The part that connects us with all the parents who ever came before, and with all those yet to be.

Want to Nominate Someone for the Motherhood Identity Series?

The Motherhood Identity Series exists to spotlight women navigating the real, complicated, and transformative terrain of motherhood—founders, creators, leaders, artists and mothers whose stories challenge how we talk about identity, ambition, and becoming.

If you know someone whose story deserves to be told — or if you’re interested in being interviewed yourself — we’d love to hear from you.

📩 Email Jenn at jenn@milaandjomedia.com with a brief note about who you are (or who you’re nominating) and why their story feels meaningful right now.

We’re always listening.

There’s a version of success women are often taught to chase—one built on hustle, endurance and proving you belong in rooms that weren’t designed with mothers in mind. Then there’s the version many women discover only after becoming mothers: success that feels less like climbing and more like rebuilding the ladder entirely.

For hairstylist, entrepreneur and industry leader Gina Rivera, motherhood didn’t simply add another role to her identity—it fundamentally reframed how she saw power, leadership and what it means to create opportunity not just for herself, but for women walking the same path.

Raised inside one of the most recognizable family legacies in professional beauty—the Rivera family legacy tied to the global brand Paul Mitchell—Gina grew up immersed in entrepreneurship long before she ever carried the title herself. But legacy alone doesn’t prepare you for the collision of early motherhood and career reality. Like many women, she found herself navigating an industry that celebrated ambition while leaving little room for the realities of caregiving.

What followed wasn’t a carefully mapped business plan. It was a deeply personal turning point—one that would ultimately lead her to build Phenix Salon Suites, now a nationwide franchise empowering thousands of independent beauty professionals to own their careers on their own terms. Along the way, Rivera has become not only a founder and mentor, but an advocate for redefining what leadership looks like when empathy, flexibility and family are part of the equation.

In this installment of The Motherhood Identity Series, Gina reflects on how motherhood reshaped her relationship with ambition, the risks she was willing to take, and the quieter moments that changed her more than any professional milestone ever could.

Because sometimes the most transformative leadership lessons don’t come from boardrooms—they begin in the earliest, most vulnerable chapters of becoming a mother.

How did becoming a mother reshape the way you see yourself—not just personally, but as a leader and entrepreneur?

My transition into entrepreneurship wasn’t planned in a boardroom; it happened in a hospital bed. In 2003, I went into labor with my first son, Phenix, three weeks early. While I was still in the hospital, the owner of the salon where I rented a booth called me. There was no “congratulations”—only a demand for my weekly rent check.

That lack of empathy was my “enough” moment. I realized the industry was broken for stylists who were also parents. I stopped seeing myself as just a stylist and started seeing myself as an advocate. Six weeks after Phenix was born, I opened my own salon and named it after him. My son gave me the courage to do what everyone said I couldn’t.

Many women feel pressure to “hold everything together.” What has motherhood taught you about redefining strength?

Strength isn’t a lack of struggle; it’s the refusal to be defeated by it. Growing up in the salon industry, I was told I’d never make it. Strength was taking that newborn baby and that “rent check” phone call and turning it into a catalyst.

Was there a moment in your motherhood journey that fundamentally changed how you approach ambition or success?

It was the realization that I didn’t want to just “have a job”—I wanted to create a legacy. When I looked at Phenix, I knew I had to build a world where he could see his mother leading with integrity. Ambition stopped being about proving people wrong and started being about proving to my children what is possible.

What parts of your identity became stronger after becoming a mother—and what parts had to evolve?

I was no longer just “Gina the stylist.” I was a provider. What had to evolve was my fear of rejection. Once you’ve survived the vulnerability of early motherhood and the pressure of starting a business with an infant, the “no’s” from bankers or landlords don’t hurt as much.

How did motherhood influence the risks you were willing (or unwilling) to take as a founder?

I wasn’t just gambling with my own future anymore; I was gambling with Phenix’s and Priest’s. But it also made me more daring. I took the risk to expand Phenix Salon Suites nationally because I knew the model worked for families. If a risk could lead to more freedom for my boys, I was willing to take it.

What leadership lessons did motherhood teach you that traditional business environments never could?

In a traditional business, you’re often only as good as your last quarter. Motherhood taught me to look at the long game. On reality TV series Undercover Boss, I saw that our stylists needed a leader who understood their “why.” Motherhood gave me the empathy to be that leader.

For mothers who dream of launching something but fear the timing is never “right,” what would you tell them?

The timing will never be perfect, but you are already equipped. I opened my doors six weeks after giving birth. Use that “new mom” adrenaline. You are already managing a household and a human life—running a business uses those same muscles. Don’t wait. Start.

How do you see women’s relationships with their hair shifting through major life stages?

Hair is the crown we never take off. During pregnancy and postpartum, our bodies change in ways we can’t control, but our hair is a way to reclaim our identity. It’s a tool for transformation.

What are the biggest hair-care mistakes you see busy moms making?

Ignoring self-care because of “mom guilt.” The biggest mistake is thinking you don’t have time for a treatment. A 5-minute scalp massage or a quality leave-in product can change your entire outlook. When you look good, you feel like you can handle the chaos of the day.

Are there seasonal or trend shifts you’re seeing right now that feel especially empowering?

I’m seeing a move toward low-maintenance luxury. Moms want hair that looks expensive but doesn’t take an hour to style. To me, that’s empowering—it’s about having a style that works for your life, not against it.

What does balance actually look like for you right now—not the ideal version, but the real one?

It looks like being “Mentor Mom.” Phenix and Priest aren’t little boys anymore; they’ve grown into incredible entrepreneurs themselves. Balance today means cheering them on as they hit over 100,000 subscribers on their YouTube show, The Burn Factory. It’s about building a 400+ location franchise without missing the games and events that shaped them, and now, it’s about watching them build their own dreams. Balance is seeing the “entrepreneur spirit” I fought so hard for now living and breathing in my sons.

What’s one motherhood moment that quietly changed you in a way no one else would have noticed?

The quiet prayers in the nursery when the business was just starting. In those moments, I realized I wasn’t building this alone. My faith and my role as a mother were intertwined.

When your children look at your career someday, what do you hope they understand?

I hope they see that I chose them every single time. Every business decision was made to ensure I could be present for them. I hope they understand that you don’t have to sacrifice your family to be a “boss.”

What legacy do you hope motherhood adds to the one you’re building professionally?

I hope I’m remembered as the woman who changed the industry for the better. I want the legacy of Phenix Salon Suites to be one of empowerment—allowing thousands of beauty professionals to be their own boss and have the same freedom with their families that I fought for.

Want to Nominate Someone for the Motherhood Identity Series?

The Motherhood Identity Series exists to spotlight women navigating the real, complicated, and transformative terrain of motherhood—founders, creators, leaders, artists and mothers whose stories challenge how we talk about identity, ambition, and becoming.

If you know someone whose story deserves to be told — or if you’re interested in being interviewed yourself — we’d love to hear from you.

📩 Email Jenn at jenn@milaandjomedia.com with a brief note about who you are (or who you’re nominating) and why their story feels meaningful right now.

We’re always listening.

Lauren Behfarin didn’t set out to build a children’s design destination while juggling school drop-offs, growing kids and the ever-evolving demands of motherhood. Like many women featured in our Motherhood Identity Series, her path toward entrepreneurship began in a quieter place—the realization that the way she wanted to live and the way she wanted to work could no longer exist on separate tracks.

Before founding Little Room Supply, Lauren’s career lived in the fast-paced world of major fashion and retail brands, where travel schedules, late-night store launches and constant motion were part of the job description. But motherhood has a way of recalibrating what sustainability really means—not just when it comes to how we spend our time, but when it comes to the kind of work we choose to build.

As her family grew, so did her clarity around something many mothers eventually confront: success means something different when your life is no longer measured solely by professional milestones, but by how closely your work aligns with the rhythms of home.

Starting her first design business with a five-month-old by her side, Lauren found herself building in the margins—during nap times, between pickups, in the quiet hours after bedtime—fueled less by a traditional entrepreneurial blueprint and more by lived experience. Designing children’s spaces wasn’t simply a niche; it was the world she was actively living inside. She understood, firsthand, how deeply the environments children grow up in shape not only their creativity and comfort, but the daily emotional tone of family life.

Over time and through working closely with families, she started noticing that parents weren’t necessarily searching for these elaboration transformation—they were searching for something simpler, and that was clarity. They wanted thoughtfully chosen pieces, cohesive design guidance and solutions that respected both beauty and practicality and they craved spaces that could withstand real childhood while still feeling calm, intentional and personal.

The idea for Little Room Supply grew from that insight: a carefully curated destination designed to remove overwhelm and help parents bring together the finishing touches that make a child’s space feel complete.

But as Lauren shares in this week’s conversation, the story behind the company is ultimately less about products and more about perspective. Motherhood didn’t just shape what she built—it reshaped how she defines time, ambition, confidence and the balance between showing up for her children and showing up for her own evolving identity.

In this week’s Motherhood Identity Series, Lauren opens up about the identity shifts that came with building a business while raising three children, how motherhood sharpened her trust in her own instincts, and why the most impactful brands often begin not with a business plan, but with a lived need.

Before Little Room Supply existed, you were already living at the intersection of design, career, and motherhood. How did becoming a mother reshape the way you think about space—especially the emotional role a child’s room plays in their sense of safety and self?

Motherhood shaped my entire career. Before children I was working in Merchandising for designer brands like Michael Kors and ALICE + OLIVIA. It meant that I had to do a lot of travel to new store openings around the country, and late night store set ups after the stores had closed for the day. I knew that would be unsustainable with children. I found my passion for design, through the stores I had worked in, but knew that I ultimately wanted to work for myself and create my own hours.

When I started Lauren Behfarin Design, my first child was five months old and I remember her sitting in the bouncy seat next to my desk as I created my website. I quickly focused on interior spaces for kids since I was so entrenched in that life at home. As a young mom myself, I knew how a space had to function for the child in all their stages of growth. I also knew as a parent that the budget for these spaces was different. I wanted to show my clients durable materials, happy colors, and calm spaces that didn’t feel like they would break the bank. I was spending so much time in the rooms of my own young children, that I knew exactly how my clients were going to use their own spaces.

Little Room Supply is rooted in the idea of finishing touches—the details that make a room feel complete. Has motherhood changed how you define “done” or “enough” in your work, your home, or yourself?

Yes and no. Why can’t we still have nice things, or designed spaces while also having children?! I don’t think those two things are mutually exclusive, but I do think there is a slight change in how we make that happen for children’s spaces. Durability and function are key. When I became a mother, I kept my sense of design. If I wanted a lighter color glider, I just bought one with performance fabric. Little Room Supply is filled with design accessories that bring whimsy and an elevated sense of style but with an understanding of how kids really use their stuff.

You’ve worked at iconic fashion and lifestyle brands before building something of your own. What did motherhood clarify for you about how you wanted to work—and what you were no longer willing to compromise on?

Everything changes when you have kids. Time is not something you are willing to compromise on because there is so little of it. I wanted to drop my kids at school every morning and see them when they came home. For me, that meant I had to work for myself.

Many mothers feel pressure to create Pinterest-perfect spaces for their children, often at the expense of their own bandwidth. How did you design Little Room Supply to remove pressure rather than add to it?

I love this question because I walk into people’s homes for a living, and no one, not even the most perfectly dressed mom at pickup has it all together all of the time. I’ve seen it. Just like I come into spaces and help parents design them, I wanted Little Room Supply to be that online destination that still feels like a designer is holding your hand through the process. I have spent hours sifting through products and brands; to feature only the ones I truly love on Little Room Supply. I have also curated bundles of items from different brands that all form one cohesive look so you can just check out with one click.

As a mom of three, your time is finite and fractured—like so many women reading The Mother Chapter. What did launching this company require you to let go of, both personally and professionally?

When I turned 40 I set new goals for myself. My kids had gotten a little older, the day-to-day tasks for them eased up a bit and I was more laser focused on what I wanted for myself professionally. But to achieve that, I had to sacrifice some of the pickup and drop off time I so loved with my kids. I trusted in the foundation I had created with them and knew that these past 9 months of me being less available would be just a small memory for them, if at all. So, I dove into creating this brand, all my time and energy was spent building this and learning what it means to launch a business. I hope my kids use their memory of this time as fuel for their own professional dreams one day.

There’s a quiet confidence in trusting your own taste instead of outsourcing it to trends or algorithms. Did motherhood strengthen that confidence for you—or challenge it?

Once you conquer sleepless nights, stomach bugs, and airplane travel with babies, you can literally do anything you set your mind to. My confidence grows each day of motherhood in a way I never expected. Your perspective shifts too, nothing will ever be more important than raising kids, so it takes the pressure off of trying and failing. My kids will always love me, even if I fail, so why not try?!

You’ve built a brand that allows parents to create beautiful spaces without hiring a designer every step of the way. How do you think motherhood reshapes our relationship to expertise, intuition, and self-trust?

Motherhood forces you to become an expert through intuition, not on all kids, but definitely for your own. I learned to trust my gut so much through becoming a mother and now I actually look for other mothers in my work environment too because I think motherhood binds you to a tribe of other mothers for life. We may not all have the same experiences or difficulties, but we have empathy for one another. I love finding brands created by mothers, or working with companies founded by mothers. We have an understanding of each other and the extra sacrifice it takes to get here.

What parts of your identity felt most at risk when you became a mother—and which ones surprised you by growing stronger?

I always wanted to be a mother, so having children just felt like coming into my own. I think it’s different for everyone but for me, becoming a mother made me feel so connected with myself, made me confident to rely on my own intuition. Nothing really prepares you for the level of sacrifice, but how you rise to it is the biggest confidence boost there is. Even if you make mistakes, or fumbled along the way, you showed up, you didn’t call in sick, and you did it all while not sleeping through the night. How bad-ass is that?!

Little Room Supply centers children, but it also deeply serves parents. How did your own experience as a mother guide the way you curated products, bundles and the overall experience?

I love working with clients and holding their hand through the design process. I become a friend, advisor and expert as a fellow mom. But I wanted to reach more people and Little Room Supply felt like the obvious extension of what I was doing. Like a mom text chat, it’s all the brands I love, stand behind, and know will look good in your kids’ spaces. I worked hard on making the navigation on the site easy so you can quickly check out while you’re multitasking the grocery delivery or bedtime routines, because I have been there too.

Looking back, do you see Little Room Supply as a business you would have built before motherhood—or one that could only exist because of it?

Both my interior design work and Little Room Supply only exist because I am a mother. I learned so much about the importance of a kid’s space by having kids myself. Personally, I push myself to be better as an example for my kids so that makes me grow professionally as well.

Many mothers wrestle with the fear that pursuing something new means taking something away from their family. How do you personally navigate ambition without guilt?

I don’t love the concept of guilt, I think we should make decisions and go with them. When I am with my kids I try to be really present, but when I am not, I know they just have more people around them who love and care for them. A grandparent or caretaker is just extra love for them. Work hard – Parent Hard. If I am making the most magical moments while I am with my kids, reading a book, dinner in a fort, whatever that may be, then it’s ok if I miss other moments.

When you imagine your children years from now, what do you hope they understand about the way you built this chapter of your life?

I hope so much that they know that they can keep growing and changing. That you can imagine what you want to do and then go and actually do it. That motherhood is a chapter that will forever be intertwined with all your life’s decisions, but it can be a motivator and not a deterrent.

Want to Nominate Someone for the Motherhood Identity Series?

The Motherhood Identity Series exists to spotlight women navigating the real, complicated, and transformative terrain of motherhood—founders, creators, leaders, artists and mothers whose stories challenge how we talk about identity, ambition, and becoming.

If you know someone whose story deserves to be told — or if you’re interested in being interviewed yourself — we’d love to hear from you.

📩 Email Jenn at jenn@milaandjomedia.com with a brief note about who you are (or who you’re nominating) and why their story feels meaningful right now.

We’re always listening.

There’s a quiet shift that happens for many women when motherhood enters the picture—one that doesn’t simply change daily routines, but reshapes how success, wellness and identity are understood altogether. The pace of achievement begins to matter less than the quality of presence and what once felt like forward motion alone becomes a deeper question:

How do we build meaningful work while still building a meaningful life at home?

For naturopathic physician, Dr. Trevor Cates, widely known today as the founder of The Spa Dr., that transformation didn’t happen after her career was established—it unfolded in real time while she was still building it. Becoming a mother during the demanding years of medical school reshaped not only how she approached her work, but how she understood identity itself. Productivity, once the primary measure of accomplishment, gradually made room for something more enduring: the value of attention, the power of presence and the realization that wellness begins long before any treatment plan or skincare routine.

That evolution would later inform the foundation of her brand, her clinical philosophy and her approach to leadership. But more importantly, it shaped how she moved through motherhood itself—learning, like so many women do, that nurturing others requires a new level of intentional self-care, boundary setting, and compassion for the inevitable seasons of exhaustion, uncertainty and reinvention. Rather than seeing motherhood as a pause in professional growth, Dr. Cates experienced it as an expansion—one that deepened her empathy as a physician, sharpened her instincts as a founder and clarified the long-term impact she hoped to create for women navigating the physical and emotional transitions of life.

What makes Dr. Cates’s story particularly resonant is not simply what she has built, but how she built it: thoughtfully, often from home, while raising her children and designing a company culture that reflects the realities mothers live every day. Her journey reflects a truth many women quietly carry—the understanding that leadership, ambition, and caregiving are not competing identities, but interconnected ones that continuously reshape each other. The lessons learned at home often become the very skills that strengthen how women lead, heal, create and serve in the world.

In this installment of The Motherhood Identity Series, Dr. Cates reflects on how motherhood reframed her relationship with wellness, reshaped her definition of beauty and aging, and influenced the deeper mission behind the work she does today. She speaks candidly about the seasons that stretched her, the mindset shifts that sustained her, and the conversations she believes women deserve to be having more openly about stress, long-term health and the evolving nature of identity across motherhood and midlife.

Because sometimes the most powerful professional turning points don’t begin in a boardroom or a clinic—they begin in the quiet realization that who we are becoming matters just as much as what we are building.

Many women know you today as the founder of The Spa Dr., but can you take us back to when you first became a mother? What surprised you most about how motherhood reshaped your identity?

When I first became a mother, I was in the middle of medical school. It was a season of intensity and ambition, and I was used to defining myself by hard work, achievement, and productivity.

Motherhood completely reoriented my sense of time and identity. I began to value presence more than productivity. Attention became my most precious currency.

What surprised me most was how deeply it expanded my heart while also humbling me. I realized that identity something that evolves. Motherhood asked me to grow beyond who I thought I was and soften parts of myself that had been driven purely by achievement.

Did becoming a mother change how you approached wellness personally?

Absolutely. Sleep became sacred. I became even more intentional about nourishing myself because I understood that my energy affected everyone in my home and set an example for my children.

It also deepened my philosophy that skin is an outer reflection of inner health. When you’re exhausted or depleted, your skin reflects it. Motherhood reinforced for me that wellness is foundational. Taking care of myself wasn’t selfish. It was essential.

How did your experience as a mother influence how you built and led The Spa Dr.?

Motherhood sharpened my intuition and clarified my values.

When building The Spa Dr., I wanted products women could confidently use during pregnancy, postpartum, and hormonal transitions. I also wanted formulas that would be safe enough for my own children. I thought about safety and long-term impact differently. I was thinking generationally.

Starting and growing the company from home also gave me flexibility to show up when my kids needed me. That mattered deeply. I intentionally hired other mothers whenever possible, knowing they would understand the importance of stepping away when my children needed me.

Motherhood strengthened my leadership instincts too. It taught me love, patience, and clear boundaries. It taught me that modeling behavior is more powerful than just instructing it. That principle applies to parenting and to business.

Were there challenging seasons? What helped you move through them?

Yes, many. There were seasons when I felt stretched thin between single parenting, clinical work, and entrepreneurship.

What helped me most was learning to ask for support, prioritize what mattered most each day, and let go of perfection. I had to release the belief that I could do everything at once. Instead, I learned to focus on what was essential in each season.

That shift changed everything.

What do you wish more mothers understood about stress and physical changes?

Motherhood is hormonally and neurologically demanding. Sleep disruption, fluctuating estrogen and progesterone, and chronic stress can affect skin, hair, metabolism, mood, long-term cardiovascular health, and resilience against other chronic health conditions like autoimmune disease.

These changes are not personal failures. They are physiological responses. When mothers understand that, they can approach their bodies with compassion rather than criticism. That mindset can lower stress and begin the healing process.

How has motherhood influenced the deeper mission behind your brand?

Motherhood shifted success from simply revenue metrics to impact.

I want women to feel empowered in their bodies. I want them to feel informed rather than confused or dismissed. I want them to understand their physiology so they can make confident decisions.

Motherhood made me think long-term. What are we modeling for our children about self-care, aging, resilience, and how we speak about our bodies?

Did you ever experience the duality of fulfillment and uncertainty professionally?

Yes. I’ve experienced seasons where I felt deeply grateful to be a mother and also unsure how to fully step into my professional growth.

I navigated that by reminding myself that identity doesn’t have to be either/or. It can be layered. There is space for ambition and devotion. There is space for growth, compassion and patience.

Integration takes time.

Lessons motherhood taught you that made you a better leader or doctor?

Empathy. Deep listening. Patience. Love paired with clear boundaries.

Motherhood taught me that strength and softness can coexist, and that leadership is more about presence than control.

How has motherhood changed your view of beauty and aging?

It made beauty less about appearance and more about vitality.

Aging now feels like a privilege. I focus more on strength, energy, and resilience than on erasing wrinkles. My definition of beauty expanded from surface aesthetics to whole-person radiance.

What conversations aren’t we having enough about motherhood and women’s health?

We don’t talk enough about cardiovascular risk and mental health in midlife women. We don’t talk enough about the hormonal shifts that continue long after pregnancy. And we don’t normalize the mental and emotional load mothers carry, which directly affects inflammation, immune function, and long-term health.

Mothers deserve more nuanced, long-term care.

Which role stretched you most? Which surprised you most?

Motherhood stretched me the most. Entrepreneurship surprised me the most.

Motherhood asked me to grow internally. Entrepreneurship expanded my external impact.

For mothers building something, what would you want them to know?

There are seasons for expansion and seasons for anchoring. You don’t have to prove your ambition by burning yourself out.

Trust the seasons. Trust your intuition.

Being present for your children when they need you matters deeply. And at the same time, don’t wait for perfection to launch or grow your career. There is never a perfect time. “Work-life balance” is not a fixed destination. It’s dynamic, messy, and beautiful.

You can build something meaningful without abandoning yourself or your family.

What does “motherhood identity” mean to you today?

It means integration.

It means allowing the version of yourself who nurtures, leads, creates, and heals to coexist.

Motherhood did not shrink my identity. It expanded it. It made me a better doctor, a stronger entrepreneur, and a more compassionate human being.

There’s a kind of tenderness that only grief teaches—a softness in the way you show up for your children, a patience you never knew you had and a deepening of presence that comes not from discipline but from love. For many of us, that lesson arrives slowly, but for Jenny Robinson-Clark, it arrived both suddenly and with clarity.

Long before she became an author, a mother of four and a voice for families navigating loss, Jenny’s life was rooted in creative expression. She danced, performed and lived in movement, story, and art—but it was motherhood and the sudden loss of her own mother that reshaped everything she thought she knew about presence, absence and the invisible threads that connect us.

Jenny’s new children’s book Are You Here? was born from that reshaping. It’s framed as a story for kids, but its heart beats for adults just as strongly—especially those who’ve ever wondered what it means to carry someone you love when they can no longer be seen. In her world, love doesn’t disappear when someone does—it whispers through rainbows and butterflies, quiet moments in nature and the ordinary days we share with our children.

On her Instagram, Jenny speaks as both a creator and a mom who’s deeply committed to nurturing emotional honesty in her family—talking about grief, presence, faith and the ways in which children can be invited into big conversations instead of shielded from them. She’s shown her journey publicly, but what her posts only begin to capture is the depth of the internal work behind the words, the courage behind the conversations and the tenderness in the everyday moments she describes.

In this issue of The Motherhood Identity Series, Jenny reflects on the way grief unexpectedly softened the way she shows up for her children, the courage it takes to talk about death and absence with honesty and the way her own stories became invitations for families to learn how to live with love instead of fear.

This conversation is equal parts about surviving the hard parts of life and learning to live with them beautifully.

We’re honored to share Jenny Robinson-Clark’s story.

Before motherhood, you were deeply immersed in creative expression—acting, dancing, performing. How did becoming a mother reshape not just what you did, but how you understood yourself?

Becoming a mother reshaped everything I thought I knew about myself and about life. First and foremost, it expanded my heart tenfold, and with that expansion came a new sense of purpose, not just for living, but for living meaningfully. Before motherhood, I spent many years focused inward, prioritizing my own goals, ambitions, and personal achievements. I wouldn’t say those years were wasted, but they were centered on who I wanted to become, not who I was becoming for someone else.

Little did I know that becoming a mom would gently but completely shift my perspective, teaching me what true selflessness looks like. My attention naturally moved away from myself and toward my children, their needs, their emotions, their sense of safety and belonging. I made a conscious decision to be present for them, knowing deep in my heart that presence, more than anything else, would create a strong and loving bond between us.

Through motherhood, I’ve come to understand myself in ways I never did before. It has revealed my strengths, challenged my weaknesses, and softened parts of me I didn’t even realize were guarded. Being a mother has taught me patience, empathy, and unconditional love, and it continues to shape who I am every single day.

After the loss of your mother, in what ways did grief unexpectedly soften or clarify the way you show up for your children today?

The loss of my mother was life-altering. Grief softened my heart and made me realize how fleeting this life truly is. It taught me to slow down, to be more patient, to parent with grace and understanding, and to really sit and listen to my children. It shifted my priorities toward creating meaningful moments and special memories with them.

My mom made our childhood feel magical through the way she celebrated birthdays and holidays and planned special family vacations that still live vividly in my memory. There have been many moments when I’ve wondered if I’m giving my children the same intentional love she gave her four kids. I think she would be proud. And through grief, I’ve come to understand something deeply important: she was doing the very best she could, just as I am doing the very best I can.

You’ve spoken about grief bringing you closer to your kids rather than pulling you away. What did that look like in real life—in the quiet moments, the hard conversations, the ordinary days?

Grief brought me closer to my children by teaching me to lean into the hard conversations instead of avoiding them. Growing up, we never talked about death, and that silence made it something I feared deeply. I didn’t want that for my kids, so we speak openly about my mom and keep her present in our everyday lives, we see her in ladybugs, talk to her, and celebrate her heavenly birthday each year. I want my children to know that love doesn’t end when someone is no longer physically here. By showing up without fear, I hope to teach them that death is not something to be afraid of, but a reminder to live fully, love deeply, and embrace the unknown, where growth begins.

Your children’s book, Are You Here?, grew out of personal loss. How did you know this story belonged outside of you—and in the hands of other families?

I knew this story belonged outside of me when I realized I wasn’t alone in my questions or my grief. As I was writing Are You Here? the message of the book healed me in ways I didn’t expect; it felt as though my mom was gently reminding me not to fear death, that she wasn’t gone but still right here with me and all around me. That reassurance was deeply comforting. When I began sharing the story, I saw how it resonated with other families searching for a gentle, honest way to talk about loss. At that point, it felt like a disservice not to share it, in the hope that it might bring others the same healing, peace and sense of connection it brought me.

Many parents struggle with how to talk to their kids about death, absence, or “big” emotions. What do you wish more parents understood about having those conversations early—and honestly?

I think many parents struggle with these conversations because they’re uncomfortable facing their own feelings first, and I include myself in that. But I’ve learned that choosing the harder conversation almost always brings a greater reward: a deeper bond with our children and a more compassionate, grounded sense of self. When we speak honestly with kids early on, we help prevent the emotional confusion and fear that can grow in silence.

Children, like adults, fill in the gaps when answers are missing, and our thoughts often go to the worst-case place. Naming the hard things out loud helps everyone realize those fears aren’t always true. More often than not, honesty creates understanding, connection, and a deep sense of peace.

You’ve transitioned from passion to purpose in a very visible way. Did that shift feel natural, or did you have to grieve parts of your former identity along the way?

I absolutely grieved my old identity, especially when I became pregnant and made the decision to move back to Florida to be close to my mom as her health declined. Letting go of the life I had imagined wasn’t easy, but it was the best decision I’ve ever made. Once I was there, I didn’t look back, I understood how important it was to show up for her the way she had always shown up for our family. I chose to live selflessly for her, just as she had for us, and while that choice was challenging at first, it gave me clarity and purpose. When she passed, I had no regrets, and I wouldn’t change the way my path shifted for anything.

As a mother of four, how has motherhood stretched or redefined your sense of ambition? What does success look like to you now compared to before kids?

I love this question. Motherhood completely redefined my ambition. For many years I was a stay-at-home mom, and while I cherished that season, I also knew God had placed a bigger dream on my heart, one rooted in serving others on a larger scale. I believe the timing was intentional; I was meant to give my full attention to my children in their early years.

When this new path of becoming an author opened, it reignited a deeper, more purposeful ambition. I knew I had to follow the calling God placed within me, not only for myself but to model for my children what it looks like to pursue your dreams with courage. I wasn’t fearless, but my desire to show up for them was greater than my fear of failure. Before children, success felt ego-driven; now success is God-driven, living with purpose, leading with love, serving humanity, and raising kind, compassionate children alongside a supportive, loving husband

Your home life sounds full—homeschooling, baking, dancing, creating. How do you protect presence in the middle of that fullness?

I think all those moments create intentional presence so it’s easy to protect it if I am aware and feel truly connected in those moments. I talk to my mom a lot and ask for her guidance in every situation and experience I choose to do. Knowing she is with me and I can call on her reminds me to stay present and to continue to choose this path so I don’t get distracted thinking about the past or what’s to come in the future.

Being married to a touring musician like Travis Clark adds another layer to family life. How do you and your partner stay grounded and connected while raising kids in a nontraditional rhythm?

It works for us and I believe God placed us in each other’s lives because he knew we could handle our non traditional way of raising a family. I always knew I wanted to raise my kids differently than I was raised. I always wanted to homeschool and have a flexible schedule. I am not one for routine and planning so it just works for us. We love being together, we homeschool, co-sleep, cook meals together, and travel spontaneously when we feel like it. It keeps it exciting and fun.

Grief is often framed as something to “get through.” What has grief given you as a mother that you didn’t expect?

It has given me a new understanding of life. I think we all must ride the wave of grief, feel the pain, the anger, the sadness, the hurt, without dwelling in it. If we can get to the other side of that wave we will be able to experience joy and love and happiness, which we all deserve. Grief gave me this new purpose that I never expected. If you asked me if I ever thought I would write a children’s book I would’ve said no way. And here we are. I’m grateful because it opened my heart to this experience, it gave me an idea and I have followed it through till the end. I am so proud of myself and I know for certain my mom has been right here with me, divinely guiding me this whole time.

If your children were describing you one day—who you are, not what you do—what would you hope they say?

That I was a loving and kind mom, that I tried my best and had the courage to follow my dreams.

For mothers walking through loss while actively raising young children, what would you want them to know they’re doing right—even on the days it feels like too much?

If you are giving yourself the time to feel your emotions you are doing it right, don’t hide it, talk to your kids about how you’re feeling, they are usually so understanding and supportive. It’s so important for them to see that you are human and have sad days. Something that has helped me is when I feel the grief I will stop what I’m doing, take a breath, and talk to my mom. I heard that when we feel our grief it’s just our loved ones trying to connect with us, reminding us of the love that is still there and that has brought me peace.

I also changed my perspective and definition of “loss”. So many people say they have “lost their loved one”, but that is not the case, they are with us, we know where they are. They are free from their physical body but their love remains within us and all around us. Losing someone is sad but knowing where they are brings great peace and I know my mom is always with me.

Motherhood has a way of stripping away the labels you never asked for and surfacing the ones you never knew you needed.

For some women, that unraveling happens quietly, in kitchens and nurseries and the long in-between hours when everyone else is asleep. For others, it happens under a spotlight they didn’t choose—one that followed them from childhood into adulthood, and then, unexpectedly, into motherhood.

Amy Duggar King is no stranger to being seen. Long before she became a mother, she was a familiar face to millions, growing up adjacent to a reality-TV empire that prized appearances, obedience and control. For years, her story was told about her—often with shorthand labels that flattened complexity and ignored context. “Crazy.” “Rebellious.” “Too much.

Motherhood not only challenged those narratives; it dismantled them.

In becoming a mother to her son, Daxton, Amy didn’t simply step into a new role—she began the slow, deliberate work of unlearning fear, breaking cycles and redefining what safety, faith and family could look like when they are rooted in calm rather than control. The result is not a tidy transformation arc, but something far more honest: a woman choosing gentleness where chaos once lived, curiosity where silence once ruled and boundaries where noise once drowned everything out.

This is what we talk about in The Motherhood Identity Series: not the polished version of motherhood, but the one that forces you to confront how you were raised, what you absorbed without consent and what you now refuse to pass down. The kind that asks not just Who am I now? but What ends with me?

In this conversation, Amy speaks candidly about growing up in her famous family, parenting without fear, protecting a child’s innocence in a world that didn’t protect hers and about learning, sometimes moment by moment, how to respond instead of react.

She reflects on writing her memoir Holy Disruptor as a mother, waking in the early hours to revisit painful chapters of her past while remaining present for the child who changed everything. She talks about faith without fire-and-brimstone, honesty without performance and the radical power of peace after years of survival mode.

What emerges is a story of a mother who understands that healing is not linear, that motherhood does not erase your past but demands you make meaning from it, and that choosing calm in a culture addicted to fear is, in itself, a form of disruption.

This interview is an invitation to rethink what strength looks like in motherhood—and to remember that sometimes the most powerful thing a woman can do is build a life so gentle it feels revolutionary.

You grew up in a world where appearances and control often took center stage. How did becoming a mother challenge or deepen your understanding of what a healthy family really looks like?

Oh my goodness, that is a huge question, and it’s very overloaded. I think for me, being on reality TV, I saw how kids weren’t really protected—cameras, what was around them, their likeness being used, all of that.

For me, I try to be very selective about how I share my son with the media and with the world. It’s hard, because you obviously want to share everything. You want to share your kids—they’re beautiful, they’re amazing. But I see a different side of it now.

Your world opens up in a different way when you realize how pure and sweet their innocence is, and you want to do everything in your power to protect it.

In your memoir, Holy Disruptor, you talk about speaking truth and breaking cycles. What did disruption look like for you in parenting as you began raising your son, Daxton?

For me, disruption looked like changing the way I spoke to my son. I grew up with a lot of turmoil—a lot of yelling, a lot of fear. I wasn’t allowed to ask questions. It was “blindly obey,” and if you asked why, it meant you were rebellious or had a heart issue.

One of the first things I taught Daxton—when he was about two—was that it’s okay to ask why. If mommy asks you to clean your room or pick up a toy and you don’t understand, you’re allowed to ask. I want to teach him the why behind things.

That’s helped me bridge the gap between “because I said so” and explaining things with love. It means the world to me that he’s not fearful of my reactions or behavior.

You were labeled “Crazy Amy” growing up in the public eye. How did that label affect your identity, and how have you shed it as a woman and a mother?

I let that label hold power over me for a very long time. I was like, “Fine, if you think I’m crazy, watch this.” It fed into that rebellious mentality, even though I wasn’t trying to be rebellious—I was just different.

At some point, I had to put that label down. I had to delete it from my mind and say, I’m making my own path now. What I’m doing for my son and my family is healthy. I’ve done the work. I’ve done the therapy. I’ve healed a lot.

That label was an old story that never really belonged to me.

You’ve been open about parenting through calm and connection rather than fear. What inspired that shift, and what does it look like in daily life?

My entire childhood was filled with chaos—fighting, police being called, violence. I learned to brace for the bad moments. When things were good, they were good. When they were bad, you just held on.

Before having a child, I worked through all of that. I wanted to be the best mom I could be. Now there’s a gentle approach to everything, even when there’s glitter all over the carpet or slime in the rug.

He’s watching me, he’s absorbing how I respond. I try to be present. I try not to grab my phone when I’m with him. I want him to know he’s treasured.

I’m a stay-at-home mom and a homeschool teacher, which requires a whole new level of patience. But I want his world to feel calm, peaceful and safe.

You grew up in such a public family. How do you navigate privacy now as a mother and public figure?

I never really considered myself famous—I was just the cousin people knew about. But I’m an open book. I wrote about everything hard in my book because I want my son to know where he came from and why we chose differently.

One day I’ll share those things with him when it’s age-appropriate. I want him to understand our past, why it was broken, and how we healed.

I think protecting their innocence is so important. Their quirks and personalities are special. My little guy refuses to wear jeans and lives in pajamas—we just go with it. But there are lines, and I’m mindful of what I share.

You’ve said honesty and faith are at the heart of your healing. How has your faith evolved since becoming a mother?

I grew up in a very religious home, but it was chaotic—yelling, screaming, and then church on Sunday. I didn’t want that for my child or my marriage.

I need Jesus every single day as a mom. He gives me patience, grace, and the ability to show up. I’m now writing a Bible study for the Bible app—a real mom life, 30-day plan. My faith now is not fear-based. I don’t want my son to love Jesus because he’s scared. I want him to experience love, integrity, honesty and grace.

If you could speak to your younger self—“Crazy Amy” on TV—what would you tell her?

I would give her the biggest hug and tell her it gets so much better. You’re living in an answered prayer. My home is peaceful. I’m not walking on eggshells. I can make mistakes and there’s grace. There’s love. It’s healthy. It’s beautiful living in an answered prayer.

If readers walk away with one message from your book and your story, what would you want it to be?

Look at your life. Look at the people around you. Look at how you’re treated. If something doesn’t bring peace, you have permission to disrupt it. Boundaries matter. When you put them in place, you create peace and freedom — the kind God wants for you.

Want to Nominate Someone for the Motherhood Identity Series?

The Motherhood Identity Series exists to spotlight women navigating the real, complicated, and transformative terrain of motherhood—founders, creators, leaders, artists and mothers whose stories challenge how we talk about identity, ambition, and becoming.

If you know someone whose story deserves to be told — or if you’re interested in being interviewed yourself — we’d love to hear from you.

📩 Email Jenn at jenn@milaandjomedia.com with a brief note about who you are (or who you’re nominating) and why their story feels meaningful right now.

We’re always listening.

For generations, women were taught that motherhood came after partnership—never before it, never without it. The order was assumed and, for a long time, deviating from it felt less like a choice and more like a failure to follow through.

But quietly, that script is changing.

Over the last three decades, the number of unmarried women in their 40s having children has grown by more than 250 percent, even as the overall U.S. birth rate has declined. Single motherhood by choice—once treated as a fringe decision or a last resort—has become one of the fastest-growing paths to parenthood. Still, despite the data, the cultural conversation hasn’t quite caught up. Many women are making this decision in private, wrestling with it internally, or speaking about it only in whispers.

Wendy McNeal knows that silence well.

A longtime CBS producer, Wendy built a career rooted in storytelling—yet for years, the most consequential story of her own life lived mostly inside her head. She imagined a future the way many women are conditioned to: career, partner, marriage, then motherhood. But as her professional life expanded and her sense of self solidified, one truth became harder to ignore: her desire to become a mother was unwavering, even as partnership remained uncertain.

What happens when the calling doesn’t align with the timeline we were promised?

Choosing motherhood on her own wasn’t a single, dramatic leap for Wendy. It was a series of quiet reckonings. Questions she could no longer postpone. Moments when fear and clarity existed side by side. Eventually, a decision rooted not in urgency or desperation, but in trust—in her body, her capacity and in the life she was willing to build.

Her journey through fertility treatment as a single woman exposed both the resilience required to walk this path and the assumptions that still surround it. Forms that presume a partner. Social narratives that frame solo motherhood as lonely or incomplete. The invisible labor of advocating for yourself while carrying a choice that challenges expectations.

And yet, Wendy’s story is not one of lack. It’s one of intention.

In the quiet moments—appointments, waiting rooms, late-night reflections—she discovered a deeper understanding of strength. Not the kind rooted in self-sufficiency alone, but the kind that knows when to ask for help. Not the performance of independence, but the practice of building a village on purpose.

Sharing this story now matters because more women are standing at the edge of similar questions, wondering whether it’s possible to begin without waiting. Wendy doesn’t offer a blueprint or a directive. What she offers instead is permission—to speak the desire out loud, to sit with both grief and confidence, and to imagine a life that doesn’t follow the expected order, but still feels deeply whole.

In this conversation, we talk about what led Wendy to choose motherhood on her own, how fertility treatment reshaped her understanding of control and vulnerability, and why telling this story now feels necessary—not just for women considering this path, but for anyone learning how to make room for lives that look different than they once imagined.

Before motherhood, how did you imagine your life unfolding—and at what point did you realize the version you wanted didn’t require a partner to begin?

For a long time, I imagined my life unfolding the way we’re conditioned to imagine it: graduate college, build a career, meet the right partner, get married, then become a mother. I didn’t question that order—I just assumed it. But as my career grew and my sense of self became more solid, I realized something important: the part of my life I felt most called toward was motherhood, not marriage. And the more honest I got with myself, the clearer it became that I was not destined to follow a traditional path.

Was there a specific moment—or series of quiet moments—when choosing motherhood on your own stopped feeling scary and started feeling inevitable?

It wasn’t one dramatic moment—it was a collection of quiet ones. It was the reflection that would come after the series of failed first and second dates, The loud ticking biological clock. The inevitability came when I understood that the desire to be a mom wasn’t going away—and that I trusted myself enough to meet it. Fear didn’t disappear, but clarity arrived. And clarity is powerful.

How did pursuing fertility treatment as a single woman challenge the way you saw yourself—emotionally, physically, or even socially?

Fertility treatment stripped away any illusion of control. Emotionally, it forced me to sit with hope and disappointment at the same time. Physically, it was humbling—appointments, injections, waiting. Socially, it challenged how visible I wanted to be. There’s still so much silence around single women choosing this path, and I had to decide whether I would internalize that silence or move through it with intention. Ultimately, it made me see myself as braver than I realized.

What parts of this journey felt empowering—and which parts made you feel unexpectedly vulnerable or exposed?

The empowerment came from choosing myself—again and again. Making informed decisions. Advocating for my body and my future. The vulnerability came in moments I didn’t expect: filling out forms alone, answering questions that assumed a partner, navigating other people’s projections. There were times I felt deeply exposed, not because I doubted my choice, but because society still struggles to make space for women who choose differently.

Did you ever grieve the version of motherhood you thought you’d have, even as you moved confidently toward the one you chose?

Yes—and I think that’s an important part of the story. Grief and confidence can coexist. I grieved the idea of sharing early moments with a partner, of having someone automatically “there” in the traditional sense. But that grief never outweighed the joy of moving forward. It simply reminded me that choosing a path doesn’t mean you didn’t imagine others—it means you honored the one that felt most true.

Becoming a mother often reshapes how women see their independence. How has solo motherhood changed your relationship to strength, self-reliance, and asking for help?

Solo motherhood redefined strength for me. Strength isn’t doing everything alone—it’s knowing when not to. I’m incredibly self-reliant, I would rather try and do something by myself first and reach out for help second. But motherhood taught me that asking for help is not weakness; it’s wisdom. Building a village, accepting support, saying “I can’t do this by myself today”—those are acts of strength too.

What assumptions do people make about single mothers by choice that feel most misaligned with your actual experience?

That this path is lonely, desperate, or second-best. None of that reflects my reality. My life is full—of love, intention, community, and joy. This wasn’t a consolation prize; it was a conscious decision. The assumption that something is “missing” says more about societal expectations than it does about my experience.

Was there a moment after your child arrived when you thought, “This is it—this is the life I chose,” and how did that realization land in your body?

Yes. It came in a quiet moment in the hospital actually, just hours after she was born. My best friend who was with me for the birth went home and I was alone, holding my daughter, exhausted, overwhelmed, but completely present. I felt so many emotions - good, bad, and indifferent. It really was a “holy shit” this is my life kind of moment but I felt grounded in a way I never had before.

Why does sharing your story feel important now—and what do you hope another woman might feel when she reads it?

It feels important because more women are quietly considering this path, and silence can feel isolating. I want my story to offer permission—not instruction, but permission. Permission to imagine a life that doesn’t follow the expected order. Also for people who aren’t considering this path but may come across a single mother by choice - instead of being quick to judge and make assumptions, there is no one-size fits all approach to this life and it takes a lot of courage to step outside social expectations.

If you could speak to a woman quietly considering motherhood on her own—but afraid to say it out loud—what would you want her to know about herself before she decides anything at all?

SAY IT OUT LOUD! Live in your truth. There is nothing more freeing. I’d want her to know that the right choice doesn’t eliminate fear; it simply aligns with who you are becoming. And she already has more strength than she thinks.

Want to Nominate Someone for the Motherhood Identity Series?

The Motherhood Identity Series exists to spotlight women navigating the real, complicated, and transformative terrain of motherhood—founders, creators, leaders, artists and mothers whose stories challenge how we talk about identity, ambition, and becoming.

If you know someone whose story deserves to be told — or if you’re interested in being interviewed yourself — we’d love to hear from you.

📩 Email Jenn at jenn@milaandjomedia.com with a brief note about who you are (or who you’re nominating) and why their story feels meaningful right now.

We’re always listening.

As the co-hosts of A Splash More, Bailey Peyton and Hayley Spitaleri have built a following by showing up as they are: Bailey with her infectious energy, emotional openness, and belief in living a “big, soft life,” and Hayley with her grounded perspective, sharp intuition, and hard-earned clarity shaped by loss, career upheaval, and becoming a mother later in life. Together, they challenge the idea that confidence has to be performative or that success has to look the way it once did.

In this week’s Motherhood Identity Series, we talk about the identity shift that so many women experience after having children—the quiet erosion of confidence, the grief of letting go of old versions of success, and the loneliness that can settle in even when life appears “full.” Bailey opens up about postpartum mental health, softened ambition, and what it means to allow yourself to keep becoming rather than trying to bounce back. Hayley reflects on grief, surrender, and the clarity that comes from releasing control and choosing alignment over appearance.

What emerges is an honest, deeply human conversation about motherhood not as an endpoint, but as a reckoning—one that reshapes how we define ourselves, how we lead, and how we trust who we’re becoming.

Before you became mothers, how did you each define yourselves? And what parts of that identity felt the most destabilized once motherhood entered the picture?

Bailey: Before I became a mom, I defined myself as a go-getter, someone who dreams big—while I still define myself as that somewhat, motherhood has softened my desire to hustle. It has actually inspired me to start a new series on my social media called Big, Soft life—inspired by my desire to continue living a big life when it comes to my dreams for my business, our family and our future, but in a softer way, and at a gentler pace. My identity felt most destabilized by motherhood when I tried to find my voice in the next season. First time motherhood silenced me a bit…it got harder for me to live loudly (something that makes me thrive) because our first son needed quieter moments and settings. In turn, talking to the camera became a stranger to me, something I used to love. I’m slowly finding my space in my next season, and I have a feeling it’s going to be my best yet.

Hayley: Before I became a mom, I saw myself as someone who got things done. There wasn’t a problem I couldn’t figure out, a goal I couldn’t reach, or a room I couldn’t confidently step into. I was the person people leaned on, at work and in life…for leadership, clarity, and support. Even saying that now feels heavy. When I became a mom, that identity started to crack. It felt like I was suddenly failing at the very version of myself I’d been praised for my entire life. And three years into motherhood, I still wrestle with that feeling. Since the pregnancy and birth of my second child, I’ve spent a lot of time quietly wondering what my future looks like, not instead of motherhood, but beyond it. Lately, I’ve been trying to lean into something softer: trusting that if I keep showing up with integrity, hold myself accountable, and continue forward even when things feel impossible, the universe will meet me there. Letting go of control over what isn’t meant for me, and focusing my energy on what is…believing that what’s meant to stay will, and what isn’t will fall away.

Was there a moment when you realized you were carrying expectations about motherhood that weren’t actually yours? What helped you start letting them go?

Bailey: That moment came nearly immediately for me after having an unexpectedly difficult entrance into motherhood that led me to PPD. I expected what I had seen and experienced through both nannying and friends of mine—babies who sleep anywhere, soothe easily, are happy. What I experienced in my first year was something else entirely…a very fussy, highly sensitive baby who would turn into an incredible young boy. I let them go by talking about it, specifically on my platforms and with my community. I felt very alone not seeing the glorious narrative that I had pictured for motherhood play out, but letting go of the expectation that everyone’s journey and child are the same set me free.
Hayley: I realized I was carrying expectations that weren’t really mine when I noticed how differently I experienced motherhood compared with parents who had children earlier in life. Becoming a mom later gave me perspective and a sense of calm, I could draw on the life I had already lived, the lessons I had learned, and the sense of self I had built. Letting go of the idea that I needed to parent a certain way or follow someone else’s timeline allowed me to focus on what truly matters for my family. It’s in that clarity and self-knowledge that I found both freedom and confidence in my own approach.

Many women talk about losing confidence in early motherhood — not just in their bodies, but in their decision-making and sense of self. What did that erosion look like for you, and how did confidence slowly rebuild?

Bailey: Erosion is such a powerful term here, I love that. Confidence has always been a pillar of who I am and what I talk about. It’s something that I have been fortunate enough to embody simply in who I am and how I show up and I am very proud of that. I never experienced lost confidence in my body, despite a multitude of fluctuations during pregnancy and postpartum, and I attribute that to the years of work I had done to love myself through every season. With that said, the loss of confidence in my decision making and sense of self is something I am experiencing yet again after the recent birth of my second. It is deep and ongoing, feels like starting all over again which is when I remind myself that I am not starting from scratch, I am starting from experience. While I may need to rebuild the confidence in my everyday abilities to now manage additional needs than just my own, there is something very powerful about doing it a second time and knowing that you are capable of it.

Hayley: For me, the erosion showed up through a series of big, unexpected life moments layered into early motherhood. During my first pregnancy, I was working in corporate America, and three days before I was supposed to return from maternity leave, I was laid off. It was disorienting, and it made me deeply aware of how vulnerable motherhood can make you…emotionally and professionally. As I gave myself space to process and imagine what might come next, we moved quickly into another pregnancy through IVF. I began easing into consulting work and slowly rebuilding my confidence, and then eight weeks into that pregnancy, my brother passed away. That loss reshaped how I moved through the world, but it also clarified what mattered most. Confidence didn’t come back all at once. My daughter was born almost exactly a year ago, and the rebuilding has been gradual and gentle. It’s looked like trusting my instincts again, choosing alignment over appearance, and finding gratitude in the fact that growth doesn’t always look linear. I’m deeply thankful for the clarity that came from those seasons because it led me back to my voice, to meaningful work, and to a version of confidence that feels rooted, earned, and true.

How has motherhood changed the way you relate to ambition and success? Were there parts of your old relationship with work or achievement that you had to grieve in order to build something more sustainable?

Bailey: Ha, ironically enough, I am grieving it right now. This second postpartum experience has been the first one that I have actually gotten to enjoy—to be present in, to smile through, and to live in without drowning in PPD. In turn it has softened my ambition and success through a stronger desire to be present for these fleeting moments. I want to enjoy these younger years while still prioritizing myself, and sometimes that means only having time for a workout one day and not a work call. If sacrificing a few work opportunities for my own mental health is what I need to do to make juggling a career and motherhood more sustainable, count me in. It isn’t an easy adjustment for me, but it’s where I’m at and I am doing my best to honor it.

Hayley: I was living in NYC, working in the music industry, going to parties, surrounded by celebrities, and chasing a version of ambition that looked exciting and impressive from the outside. As I moved into my 30s, though, something shifted. Creating positive impact — on people, on the world — started to matter more to me. Not that success and impact can’t coexist, but at that point in my life, they weren’t aligned, and I struggled to force them together. Motherhood clarified that tension in a powerful way. Success slowly stopped being about titles or proximity to “cool,” and started looking like someone telling me that something I said helped them through a hard moment or changed how they saw themselves. I still look at the platinum album in my garage and the once-in-a-lifetime stories with people like Boyz II Men and Mac Miller with gratitude…and yes, I had to grieve that former version of success, especially how it appeared to the outside world. But that life wasn’t what truly lit me up. Motherhood taught me that sustainability, in work and in life, comes from alignment. If what you’re building doesn’t energize you, it will eventually cost you. Letting go of what looked impressive made room for something quieter, more meaningful, and far more fulfilling.

Motherhood often collides with things we didn’t plan for — postpartum mental health struggles, grief, or identity shifts that feel deeply isolating. How did those harder seasons shape who you are as women, not just as mothers?

Bailey: Crying as I write this, doesn’t get more real and raw than that. I feel very deeply isolated in my current season, 5 months postpartum with my second. I don’t know what is next for me in my career and that identity shift feels so immense and often triggers PPD for me. These harder seasons have shaped me into having a stronger relationship with myself and a greater resilience to get back up again, and again, and again. During my first postpartum period, I kept feeling like I had to find myself again…it wasn’t until my second season that I realized it’s about allowing myself to keep becoming…I am not bouncing back, I am becoming.

Hayley: The word that keeps coming up for me is control. I entered motherhood believing that if I planned well enough and worked hard enough, I could control all of the outcomes that would come my way and I learned very quickly how unrealistic that was. Motherhood didn’t just challenge that belief, it dismantled it in the most humbling way. What it’s taught me instead is trust: trusting my instincts and understanding that the only person I can truly control is myself. Not my children, not my partner, not friendships or career outcomes. So much of our energy as women is spent trying to manage things that are simply out of our hands. Letting go of that illusion has shaped me profoundly, and it’s a lesson I don’t think I could have learned any other way.

There’s a lot of pressure to model confidence for our children. What do you think kids actually need to see from us when we’re unsure, overwhelmed, or still figuring things out?

Bailey: Feeling, failure and follow through. I cannot expect my boys to know that it is okay to feel if I don’t allow them to see it, a lot of us are living proof of this from being raised by the boomer generation and having to learn this the hard way, myself included. I always allow my boys to see my good and bad days, and if my oldest desires to talk through it, I welcome that as well. Kids need to see us modeling a real life example of what it is to be human—healthy boundaries around relationships and time management, providing tools to cope when things get hard—so I let them in. They get a front seat to seeing me feel, fail and most importantly, follow through on a path forward. Something I think we often forget as parents is simple: we are experiencing life for the first time, too.

Hayley: I think what kids truly need to see isn’t confidence for show…it’s integrity and honesty with themselves. When we’re unsure or overwhelmed, modeling how we hold true to our values, make thoughtful choices, and let go of what others define as “success” teaches them that life isn’t about always having the right answer or looking perfect. For example, saying something like, “I’m not sure what the best choice is, but I’m going to follow what feels right and responsible” shows them that success is about alignment with your own principles, not external approval. Kids internalize that it’s okay to be uncertain, and that what matters is acting with care, curiosity, and authenticity. That kind of example builds confidence grounded in character, not ego.

How do you decide where to draw boundaries — with work, with social media, or with other people’s expectations — in a way that feels protective rather than restrictive?

Bailey: If there is someone I can hire to do this for me, send them my way, because it is very much a daily work in progress. It’s wild what we struggle with individually…people’s expectations? I can easily draw a boundary, I am an expert at protecting my peace and if it drains my battery, it doesn’t get my time. Social media consumption and work? STRUGGLE OF MY LIFE. The easiest thing I can relate this to as someone who struggled with body image for many years, is my relationship with food. When I would restrict myself with food, I became resentful, it made me want it more. When I shifted the narrative to allowing myself to have cravings and gain knowledge around my own body and nutrition, I felt protected. I reclaimed my own boundaries with myself and that is how I attempt to approach boundaries in all areas of my life.

Hayley: Honestly, I have not figured this out yet…and that’s okay. It is such an area of growth for me and my north star for learning is from asking a simple question: Is this adding real value to my life or the people I care about? If it is, I engage fully. If it’s not…whether it’s work, social media, or other people’s expectations, I give myself permission to step back. It’s not about restriction; it’s about being honest with myself about what matters.

In what ways do you feel more yourself now than you did before becoming a mother? And in what ways are you still becoming her?

Bailey: Motherhood clarifies value, and I feel more myself now than I did before becoming a mother in the way it has given an even deeper confidence. Boundaries grow firmer. Priorities sharpen. The self that emerges may feel quieter, but also more honest and less performative. I am still becoming her by allowing that less performative version of myself shine—I am used to being center stage, spent the majority of my early career in musical theater, then modeling, then as a content creator. While I have always showed up authentically online, any camera is still a stage, but the real, raw and relatable me is still becoming more than ever, and I am looking forward to revealing her more and more.

Hayley: I feel more grounded in my purpose than ever, and becoming a mother has only sharpened that clarity. My husband and I share the responsibility of shaping our children’s world and how they see it, and I know that my desire to make a positive impact on the planet starts at home. I also believe that growth and learning are lifelong, the moment we think we’ve “arrived” is the moment we stop becoming. I hope I never view an opportunity through that lens.

What’s something about modern motherhood that you think women are quietly struggling with — but rarely feel permission to say out loud?

Bailey: Loneliness. There is a quiet loneliness unique to this era, specifically in modern motherhood given that we are growing up in a time of screens and media. You can be constantly connected and still feel unseen. I think we often don’t say this out loud because we’re often met with a reply of ‘you chose this’ and while yes, motherhood and growing a family is a choice, we are not raising children in the era of villages, we are raising them alone.

Hayley: I think a lot of modern mothers quietly struggle with the pressure to excel everywhere at once…to be the emotional anchor of the family, manage the household flawlessly, and also succeed in their careers and financial lives. There’s rarely permission to admit that this constant balancing act can feel impossible, or that sometimes you’re stretched too thin. What many women don’t say out loud is that it’s okay not to meet every expectation, and that doing less in some areas can actually create space to be fully present and effective in the ones that truly matter.

If you could speak directly to the version of yourself in early motherhood, what would you want her to understand about identity, self-trust, or time?

Bailey: I would want her to understand that she is not disappearing—she is rearranging. It will feel like pieces of her are being stripped away, but they’re actually being moved closer to the surface, where they can no longer hide behind performance, productivity, or certainty. I would want her to understand that she is allowed to want more than this moment, without wanting to escape it. Longing does not make us ungrateful. It makes us alive.

Hayley: Life is about to get real, and the world doesn’t pause when things get challenging. It’s okay to step back and let things unfold around you for a moment, everything else will still be there when you’re ready and if it is not, it was never meant for you in the long run.

Want to Nominate Someone for the Motherhood Identity Series?

The Motherhood Identity Series exists to spotlight women navigating the real, complicated, and transformative terrain of motherhood—founders, creators, leaders, artists and mothers whose stories challenge how we talk about identity, ambition, and becoming.

If you know someone whose story deserves to be told — or if you’re interested in being interviewed yourself — we’d love to hear from you.

📩 Email Jenn at jenn@milaandjomedia.com with a brief note about who you are (or who you’re nominating) and why their story feels meaningful right now.

We’re always listening.

Mulier Fortis wasn’t built in a quiet season. It wasn’t born out of excess time or spacious days. It emerged in the chaos: while toddlers clung to legs, babies disrupted Zooms, and careers in male-dominated industries demanded more than anyone should have to give. And yet, in just a few short years, the company has grown into a fast-rising force in the sports ecosystem: expanding partnerships, building trusted systems where none existed and becoming a go-to resource for athletes, organizations, and brands seeking strategic guidance grounded in experience, empathy, and excellence.

Its momentum reflects exactly why they created it: because women understand the gaps in the system better than anyone. And because they refused to wait for permission to build what was missing.

In this week’s Motherhood Identity Series, we’re chatting about the decision to launch a company while raising four young kids between them, the courage to redefine ambition after motherhood, and the conviction that leadership can look radically different when women stop shrinking to fit old models.

You launched Mulier Fortis while both raising young kids — what did it look like to build something so ambitious during the most demanding years of motherhood?

One of the biggest reasons we launched Mulier Fortis was to have more control over our schedules so we could truly be there for our kids. Both of our children are at ages where having their mom present, at pick-ups, at bedtime, for the little everyday moments really matters to them and to us. So from the very beginning, we built the company with that in mind. We designed Mulier Fortis around the understanding that our role as mothers is just as important as our role as founders. That meant structuring our work in a way that allowed both of us to show up for our kids first, and then build something ambitious in the time and space we created around that.

You’ve each spent your careers breaking barriers in male-dominated industries. How has becoming mothers influenced the way you show up in those rooms — and how you lead?

Motherhood has made us double down on leading with authenticity. We’re constantly teaching our kids to be who they are and to own it, and we hold ourselves to that same standard in every room we walk into, especially the male-dominated ones. At Mulier, we don’t try to fit into an old mold of leadership. We show up as ourselves: as women, as mothers, and as leaders who are clear about our values. That means we’re not afraid to speak up, to challenge outdated norms, or to build a culture that prioritizes humanity as much as performance. Becoming mothers has given us a sharper sense of purpose. We’re not just breaking barriers for ourselves; we’re modeling for our kids what it looks like to lead with integrity and courage.

Raquel, you started Mulier Fortis when your children were still babies. What did that season teach you about resilience and redefining what “working mom” looks like?

I started Mulier Fortis with Lagen in a season when most people would have told me to “wait until things calm down.” That season taught me that resilience isn’t about being unshakable. It forced me to redefine what a “working mom” looks like. It’s not the polished version we often see, and instead of hiding my motherhood, I integrated it into my life, and into our business ethos. That’s really at the heart of Mulier Fortis — the belief that strength and ambition look different on women, and that motherhood can sharpen your leadership rather than sideline it.

That season didn’t just teach me resilience; it also gave me proof that I could build something meaningful in the messiest, most demanding chapter of my life. And that has fundamentally changed what I believe is possible for working moms.

Lagen, you’ve balanced leading a business and raising young kids almost simultaneously — what has that taught you about leadership, both at home and at work?

Balancing leading a business and raising young kids simultaneously has taught me that true leadership is about adaptability. At home, it’s about acting with patience and understanding; at work, it’s about harnessing a flexible environment, where I can still continue to grow and harness success.

So much of Mulier Fortis is about bridging gaps and creating systems that work better. How has that mission mirrored what you’ve learned about balance, flexibility, and support in motherhood?

When you’re navigating the demands of young children, you quickly realize that traditional structures often don’t work. You’re constantly looking for ways to optimize, to be more flexible, and to build a support system because you simply can’t do it all alone. That personal experience of needing better systems for our own lives directly fueled the mission of Mulier Fortis. We understood firsthand the gaps that exist for women trying to balance ambition with family life. This pushed us to create solutions that genuinely offer flexibility, foster true balance, and build communities of support.

You’re both moms of two and business partners — what have you learned about partnership, trust, and communication through running a company together while parenting in parallel?

Being moms of four kids between us and business partners has really amplified the importance of partnership, trust, and communication. We’ve learned that clear, honest communication is non-negotiable, especially when juggling family life. We have to trust each other implicitly to handle things, knowing that sometimes a child’s need will take priority. It’s taught us to be incredibly flexible and to always have each other’s backs, both as business partners and as fellow moms navigating similar walks of life.

Raquel, how has motherhood changed your relationship to ambition — the pace, the priorities, and the kind of impact you want to make?

Motherhood didn’t make me less ambitious; it made me more honest about it.

Before kids, my ambition was very linear: next title, next deal, next milestone. The pace was “as fast as possible,” and I never relented…until I had children. After having my boys, the ambition didn’t go away, but it got reshaped. I shifted my focus from speed to sustainability. My priorities became crystal clear: time with my boys is invaluable, making my “yeses” more intentional and impactful. I am now getting to build a company that proves women don’t have to choose between leadership and motherhood, modeling for my sons that women’s careers are valuable. My ambition now has a deeper “why,” centered on creating a world where my boys see women thrive in all aspects of life.

How do you think about identity now — not just as executives or mothers, but as women building something that challenges how leadership is defined in your field?

Our identity now feels incredibly integrated. We’re not just executives or mothers, we’re women who are building something that challenges traditional leadership. Motherhood has deepened our understanding of strength and purpose, and that informs how we lead and innovate.

Lagen, how has motherhood reshaped your definition of success — personally, professionally, or even creatively?

Motherhood has reshaped my definition of success. Personally, it’s less about external achievements and more about present and connections. Professionally, success now includes building a company that genuinely supports my values and well-being, not just success in terms of numbers. Also, it’s about finding innovative ways to integrate all aspects of my life, proving that ambition and family can thrive together.

Raquel, in the early years of building your company, how did you handle the tension between being present for your family and pushing forward professionally?

I am definitely still “in it” with a 2 year old and 6 year old! Through the building of Mulier Fortis, the tension has never disappeared; I have just gotten better at naming it and managing it. I have had to accept two truths at the same time: 1) My family is not negotiable; and 2) My work is not a hobby — it matters deeply to me and to the community we serve, especially the women in this sports community.

Instead of pretending I can “have it all” every day, I get very practical about how I handle that tension. I set non-negotiables: things related to my family and my relationship that I will not miss. Not every week is perfect, but having those non‑negotiables gives me a baseline. I have also embraced transparency, which I think many women avoid in this circumstance.

With my clients and partners, I don’t hide the fact that I am building this company with little kiddos in the background. I would say, “I’m available at these times because I do school drop‑off,” or, “I need to step out for 20 minutes, then I’ll be fully locked in.” I also accept that there are seasons and cycles to it all. Rather than seeking daily balance, I allow for lopsided seasons, leaning on support when work demanded more, and intentionally pulling back when family needed me. It’s not easy, and definitely not perfect, but taking this approach has made me a more intentional leader and mother, showing my boys the value of both hard work and family commitment.

Lagen, when you look at the company you and Raquel are building, what parts of it reflect the kind of world you hope your children grow up in?

When I look at Mulier Fortis, I see a company built on the values I hope my children experience every day. It reflects a world where women are empowered, where flexibility and empathy are celebrated, and where ambition doesn’t come at the cost of family. We’re creating a company where people can thrive authentically, and that’s the kind of inclusive, supportive, and forward-thinking world I want my kids to grow up in.

Bloomers Intimates was born from those unfiltered conversations.

For mother and daughter duo, Noa Arias and Shaula Yemini, lingerie wasn’t just a product category: it was a mirror. A mirror that reflected how differently women feel in their bodies at 30, 50, 70. A mirror that revealed a massive gap in the industry: where was the beautiful, comfortable, grown-woman lingerie for bodies that have lived real lives?

The answer didn’t exist. So they built it.

Since launching in 2021 with a single lace panty, Bloomers has grown into a fast-expanding brand with multiple styles, new fabrics, bralettes, camisoles, and the first-ever sexy lace leakproof line. Their customer community spans generations, their repeat rate is staggering, and their growth has doubled and tripled year after year — proof that women have been waiting for someone to design with them, not around them.

In this week’s Motherhood Identity Series, we explore how building Bloomers reshaped Noa and Shaula’s identities as mothers, leaders and women in completely different seasons of life — what it looks like when parenting meets partnership, when legacy meets lingerie, and when two generations decide they’re done shrinking themselves to fit an industry that never made room for them in the first place.

Bloomers was born from your shared belief that change — in our bodies, our confidence, our identities — is a beautiful thing. How has building this brand together deepened your understanding of womanhood across generations?

NOA: Society often assumes that after having babies and gaining a few pounds, or after reaching a certain age, women can no longer be objects of desire and are expected to just kind of give up in terms of trying to look and feel sexy. I remember a friend’s father, having divorced her mother and recently married to a much younger woman, saying to me and my mother that he doesn’t understand how any man can be attracted to any woman over 35. Which was not only rude, but totally not accurate. Life doesn’t end at 35! My mom is more than double 35 and still cares very much about her appearance, wanting to look feminine and stylish. We know that most women want to look and feel attractive all of their lives, so that’s where the idea for Bloomers came about.

Since lingerie is the first layer you put on in the morning, or after a shower, it sets the tone for the day. You can’t have a good day if you are wearing underwear that’s riding up or pinching your waist. The truth is we’re all looking for beautiful lingerie that is as comfortable as it is flattering, it’s just that when we were younger, we were told that beauty is pain.

But fortunately, that’s no longer the case with Bloomers Intimates! While all the other lingerie brands are targeting Gen Z and Millennials, we know that Gen X (Noa) and Boomers (Shaula) also want comfortable, sexy lingerie, we just aren’t willing to sacrifice comfort for style the way younger generations are. And we are right - we have customers of all age groups! One of our most heartwarming reviews came from a woman who said she was 80 and had never imagined she could again look and feel so good in sexy lingerie. And our 3XL sizes are even more popular than our XS.

Obviously we have changed from our 20-year-old selves, both in mind and in body. Motherhood makes you realize that the world does not revolve around you, that there are people who depend on you, who you are responsible for: both your children, your larger family, and your co-workers and employees. I am part of the sandwich generation—I feel responsible not only for my children, but for my parents. Having a family changes your outlook on life, your priorities, and how you interact with others as equals.

In terms of body, every five years my metabolism takes a dip, and despite exercising religiously at Barry’s bootcamp, I am at an age where I can no longer eat whatever I want without consequence. I am now looking at certain outfits and realizing they are more suited for my tween daughter than for me.

For example, I just took my daughter to the Sabrina Carpenter concert the other night and she wanted me to wear a short, hot pink dress which was perfect for the scene, but not for a 46-year-old mom. So I made my own adult version of a concert outfit with a pink top and pink cowboy boots. I may be middle-aged, but I don’t feel it, and it certainly doesn’t mean I am wearing granny panties and sweats every day. Only sexy granny panties for me ;)

Shaula, you’ve had an accomplished career in tech and then reinvented yourself in fashion — what inspired that leap, and how did it connect to your evolving sense of self as a mother and woman?

After selling my company, I spent over a decade mentoring entrepreneurs. I made sure every entrepreneur who wanted to build a company understood the key ingredients for success: clearly articulate the pain point they were addressing and identify the market that needed a solution for this pain badly enough to pay for it, and large enough to support a thriving business.

So when I enlisted Noa to help me find comfortable lingerie that was stylish and flattering for my older body, and we couldn’t find any anywhere, I saw these key ingredients. At the same time, I felt that as a mother, I could help Noa build a venture and grow into a successful entrepreneurial career. It is so much more satisfying working with your daughter than with random entrepreneurs. So here was an opportunity to build something unique for women, with my daughter. How could that not be inspiring?

As mother and daughter, you’ve blurred the lines between family and business. How do you navigate when those worlds collide — and how has it strengthened (or challenged) your relationship?

SHAULA: It wasn’t easy to navigate at the start. As a mother, I had to prove my value all over, despite my decades in business. Initially, every recommendation I made was immediately rejected. Having been a boss most of my adult life, I suddenly had to learn how to get my point across in a much softer, and sometimes quite indirect manner, more by raising questions than by providing answers. I must admit this was not only hard, but was initially quite unsuccessful. And trying to twist arms backfired miserably, leading to one Thanksgiving where we didn’t speak for a week. But over time, with a lot of hard work, I believe we reached an ideal working partnership, with trust and respect. And I believe I have become much easier to work with - ask Noa.

NOA: She has! And so have I, right, mom? I have had to learn to stop my (rebellious teenager) knee-jerk reaction to oppose each and every one of my mom’s suggestions and think like a businesswoman. Over time, I have figured out how to separate these feelings from business decisions, and now we agree on much more than you would think. We have found a way to work together smoothly and productively, and nothing can match the trust we have in one another.

We are a good team. She’s the more assertive yin to my passive yang. I always look to her to help with negotiations, and I hope that some of her strength is rubbing off on me. And I know that some of my softness is rubbing off on her.

I also now have a greater understanding of my mom and her feelings, and I try to be mindful of them. She’s already worked hard and built a successful business and she should get to enjoy her life. I try to be mindful of that when I am asking her to do the more tedious part of the job but I am thankful that some of that enjoyment of life constitutes working with me. I know that if I am overwhelmed, I can ask my mom to jump in and she will gladly do it.

Noa, you launched Bloomers while raising two children — a time when many women feel pulled in every direction. How did motherhood shape your sense of identity as a founder and creative leader?

Something happened after I had my first child that turned me into a total marshmallow. I never used to cry at sad movies, but now I find myself tearing up at commercials. I get emotional sometimes just thinking about how the time has flown by and the kids are growing up so quickly. So motherhood has definitely given me a greater sense of empathy. I understand the need for flexibility in work situations and, with a team of mostly women, it’s essential! We’ve got team members caring for kids or elderly family members, and I personally am doing both, so I am very big on work life balance.

I also realize that there are so many parts of life that are serious, that we need to actively find a way to lighten up in order to enjoy our lives. Nowadays I only read beach reads and watch rom-coms because if I want something serious, I can just read the news. For Bloomers, that means that since we are working with underwear, let’s have fun with it! We try to bring that sense of levity into our creative and communications. It’s a tricky balance to be fun and elevated at the same time, but I think we pull it off.

Lingerie is deeply personal, tied to how women see themselves. How has creating Bloomers changed the way each of you view your own body and femininity at this stage of life?

SHAULA: All my previous decades were spent building a career in technology. I was surrounded by men, and dressed accordingly, in pant suits. Nothing feminine on top, no ruffles, no silky fabrics - just well-tailored suits. But I always had a love for fashion. So my secret weapon was lace lingerie under those suits. It had to be comfortable because I would spend many hours on a plane, or going from meeting to meeting.

So when I could no longer find the same lingerie I had been wearing over the years, I had to switch to cotton Jockeys - very comfy but so very boring. Now that we produce the kind of lingerie I was craving - gorgeous scalloped lace, silky smooth, stretchy, full coverage and oh so comfy, I feel like I’ve shed years off my life. When I dress in the morning and look in the mirror, I feel great - confident, alluring, pretty, unstoppable.

NOA: I have always been a fitness buff, especially after giving birth. I have maintained that throughout my life and definitely now when I am constantly taking pictures of myself in underwear and sharing it with the team. So the focus on maintaining a healthy body has always been there, but I also work out for my mental health. I have a mind that will run amok if I don’t physically go for a run.

In terms of femininity, my mom has always been more feminine than I am, she is the inspiration for Bloomers. She is always dressed up, with lipstick and hair done. My grandma (her mother) was also like that! Somehow that gene was not passed on to me, but I see it in my daughter for sure. I am definitely more of a suburban mom in my yoga pants. But I feel if I wear the workout pants, I will actually go and workout. And I love that my Bloomers don’t show any lines in my workout pants.

Before Bloomers, I would vacillate between thongs and granny panties, depending on my mood, my feeling about my body and the time of the month. Having a beautiful pair of undies to make you feel a little more tucked in and dressed up when the rest of your body feels crummy is an absolute upgrade.

You’ve both lived many chapters — motherhood, entrepreneurship, reinvention. What does confidence look like for you now compared to earlier seasons?

SHAULA: Confidence is having accomplished much of the important things I set out to, with different accomplishments at different life periods. Being a good mother and a good sister and daughter who takes care of her family; building successful businesses that create jobs and solve problems and generate products that people want; identifying causes that are important to me and to my people and being a generous philanthropist. If you feel you’ve done as much as you could on all those fronts - that creates confidence.

NOA: I find that most of my confidence comes from a deeper place, whereas when I was young it was definitely more about my appearance and competition, how I stacked up compared to my peers. I still work on my appearance (ahem, Barry’s), but I am no longer comparing myself to everyone else around me. Which is not easy in the days of social media! Though I have come to learn that the better things look on social media, the likelier there is something not so good behind the scenes. As I’ve grown up, I have realized that everyone has their own path, their own struggles, and life is not a competition.

Now my pride is in my accomplishments, my family, these elements of my life that I have put so much effort into and seen results, that’s where my confidence comes from. Nothing makes me feel better about myself than hearing my kids are good kids.

Shaula, what has it been like to build something with your daughter — not just as a proud parent, but as a partner and peer?

It took some adjusting to overcome old patterns of interaction - the overbearing mother who knows best, and the rebellious teenager who believes her mother is not only outdated, but a know-nothing as well. But we not only adjusted, we built a strong synergistic relationship of both family and business partnership based on mutual respect and unlimited trust. It wasn’t easy, and it took a long time, but it eventually turned out terrific. The very opposite of the mother - daughter partner relationship in the Grace and Frankie TV series.

Watching your children and grandchildren see you build a company centered on women’s empowerment — what does that mean to you personally?

SHAULA: We are building a family legacy of commitment to hard work and excellence. When I was growing up, these were expected implicitly. When I brought home a great report card, my parents would just nod their head in acknowledgement, like OK, we never expected differently. I tried to impart these expectations of excellence to my children through letting them see that there are not only successes in life but failures.

But you have to pick up the pieces and move on and work even harder and smarter or else you will never reach success. Noa worked in my technology business and got to see firsthand what her mother was creating, how hard she had to work to keep things afloat, the many false starts and failures, and finally the successes.

NOA: What my mother said in terms of expectations applies to me as well. My parents never really bothered me about schoolwork, because they didn’t have to. I put my own pressure on myself to succeed. It’s funny because a friend was just asking me if I have to get on my kids about their schoolwork, and I was like I don’t, they just do their work. They also put the pressure to succeed on themselves! Maybe it’s from seeing how hard my husband and I work or maybe it’s the high expectation Yemini gene my mom mentioned.

I do think and hope we are building a legacy for life. I work from home, with panties, bralettes and camisoles strewn over the dining room table, and my daughter has started to help sort through the returns and pack things up to donate to charity. She is always asking what she can do for Bloomers. She’s a bit young to do more than the return sorting, but soon enough…

Noa, you’ve built a brand that invites women to feel sexy and confident through every phase of life. Has that changed the way you model confidence to your kids?

The fact that I started my own business, and that I work very hard on it and am proud of it, is probably the best way I am modeling confidence for my kids. They share my excitements and my disappointments, which helps them understand that life isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. When I have a really bad day at work, I have a hard time hiding it with my new marshmallow self. While my kids really hate to see me upset, I try to show them that I am able to overcome these challenges. I think sharing my experiences will help them grow into well-adjusted adults that are capable of handling real life.

Shaula, when you think about legacy — both in business and in family — what lessons do you hope Bloomers leaves behind for your daughter and grandchildren?

Noa and I have had an ongoing joke - when I insist on something and she pushes back and says its impossible to achieve and it eventually actually works out, I starting to enumerate these “lessons”: lesson #22, lesson #23 and so on. One day she turned to me and said “mom, all your lessons are the same and boil down to “when there is a will there is a way”. I consider that a very important legacy.

Noa, how do you balance nurturing your children’s growth while also nurturing your own evolution as a woman and entrepreneur?

Honestly, it was easier when the kids were younger and they had an afterschool program that went until 6pm. Now that the kids are in middle school, they are usually home at 3 and I need to get all of my important work and meetings done by then. My office is the kitchen so there have been times where they just start asking me questions in the middle of a Zoom (which is my own fault! There are other spaces I can go to in the house).

I can still work when they are here, but it’s definitely harder to focus and I find myself doing work again in the evening. But I am glad they see me working - I feel I am setting a good role model and an example of what it means to be a productive adult at the same time as a caring mother. I also like that I am home for them when they return so I can hear about their day, help them with homework and drive them to activities when needed. Plus I get all the gossip.

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For many women, the most powerful chapters begin in the moments when life is already full, when the kids are growing, when responsibilities feel heavy, when the identity you’ve always known no longer fits the way it once did. And yet, there’s a spark. A calling. A whisper that says, “There is more for you here.”

That’s the heart of Vontélle Eyewear’s story.

Co-founders Nancey Harris and Tracy Vontélle Green built their luxury eyewear brand during seasons of motherhood that looked completely different—one raising a young child with unique needs, the other parenting a son stepping fully into adulthood. Two women in two different chapters, both choosing to expand instead of shrink. Both choosing to honor the identities that motherhood didn’t erase, but clarified.

And what began as a deeply personal calling—rooted in culture, representation, and legacy—grew into a nationally recognized brand now carried by Saks Fifth Avenue online, America’s Best, Sam’s Club, Shopbop, Amazon & more than 100 independent optical retailers across the U.S. and Caribbean. Their work has led to partnerships with Nickelodeon, a collaboration with Kadeem Hardison to reintroduce his iconic “Dwayne Wayne” flip-up frames, MWBE certification in New York, and inclusion on the Forbes 50 Over 50 Lifestyle List. They’ve even expanded their mission into impact work with the NYC Department of Education, providing vision services and free eyewear to families in Women in Need shelters.

Their journeys remind us that motherhood isn’t the end of ambition: it’s often the beginning of clarity. It’s the lens through which we understand legacy, representation, purpose, and the kind of impact we want our children to witness.

In this week’s Motherhood Identity Series, we explore the identity shifts that shaped their path: the late nights, the resilience, the duality of nurturing a business while nurturing a child, the lessons learned from their sons, and the courage it takes to step into entrepreneurship when the world expects you to stay in the role you’ve always played.

You launched Vontélle with the goal of creating eyewear that celebrates culture and identity. How did motherhood shape the way you defined that mission from the start?

Motherhood gave us a deeper understanding of legacy and purpose. When we became mothers, we wanted our children to see themselves reflected in a world that truly values diversity. That’s the heart of Vontélle — creating something that celebrates who we are while paving the way for who’s coming next. We wanted our sons to grow up knowing that representation isn’t just about visibility; it’s about belonging. Every style, pattern, color, and design we create is inspired by culture, pride, and the belief that beauty comes in all forms and faces.

Nancey, you were still deep in the early motherhood years when you launched Vontélle. What was it like to build something so demanding while raising a young child?

It was one of the most challenging and rewarding seasons of my life. As a mother of a child with special needs, you learn a whole new level of patience, balance, and compassion. There are days when it feels like there simply aren’t enough hours to juggle it all — the therapies, school routines, business meetings, and deadlines. I often work late into the night so that the time between my son arriving home from school and bedtime is reserved just for him. Building Vontélle still requires sacrifice and discipline, but it also deepens my purpose. My son is my greatest motivation — he reminds me daily that anything is possible with love, resilience, and faith.

Building a company while raising children requires a deep kind of resilience. What did each of you learn about yourselves — and about womanhood — through that balance?

Balancing motherhood and entrepreneurship has taught us that strength isn’t about doing it all — it’s about giving your best with what you have. We learned to be flexible, forgiving, and fiercely focused. As women, we carry so much, families, businesses, communities, but we also have an incredible ability to build from love. It’s important to give yourself grace, because we are far from perfect. There were moments when we were exhausted, but our children remind us why we started this journey. They’ve been our quiet motivation through every challenge and success.

Tracy, when you started Vontélle, your son was stepping into adulthood — and you were stepping into a new business. How did that parallel transition impact how you saw yourself?

When I started Vontélle, my son was transitioning into adulthood, and I was transitioning into entrepreneurship — it was a journey of growth for both of us. I wanted to show him that it’s okay to pivot in life, to take risks, and to redefine yourself at any age. After years of working as a CFO (Chief Financial Officer) at a hospital in Brooklyn, I made the leap to build something of my own.

I brought him along for the ride because I wanted him to see what it looks like to build from the ground up — the long nights, the creativity, and the perseverance. He’s a budding artist, so I invited him to contribute his talents to the brand. He modeled for us early on (picture in Keys to Kenya Pink frames), and when we partnered with Legends Recording for the 50th Anniversary of Hip-Hop collection, he created many of our graffiti-inspired designs. It was a full-circle moment — I was watching him grow into his artistry while he watched me grow into my purpose.

Representation is at the heart of Vontélle. How has being mothers influenced the way you think about what your sons see reflected in the world, and in your work?

Our sons are our mirrors. Through their eyes, we’re constantly reminded that the world still needs more stories, faces, and products that reflect them. We’re intentional about showing them that they belong, not just in the room, but at the head of the table. Representation means creating a future where they can see possibilities everywhere. By building Vontélle, we’re showing our sons that their mothers are creating impact and that success can look like us — bold, Black, and unapologetically visionary.

Nancey, how has being a mother informed your leadership — especially in an industry where confidence, style, and self-expression are so intertwined?

Being a mother has made me a more empathetic and intentional leader. I lead with care but also with accountability — the same way I parent. I understand the importance of creating space for others to feel seen, valued, and heard, which is the very essence of Vontélle’s brand. Confidence and style start with self-acceptance, and that’s what I want my team and our customers to feel. Leadership, like motherhood, is about nurturing growth while empowering independence.

You’ve broken barriers as the first Black women-owned eyewear brand to land major partnerships and national recognition. How do you think about legacy — both as founders and as mothers?

Legacy, for us, is about more than business achievement; it’s about changing the narrative. We want our legacy to reflect courage, creativity, and community. As founders, we’re building a brand that opens doors for other women and underrepresented voices in fashion. As mothers, we’re showing our sons the power of perseverance, excellence, and faith. When they look back, we hope they see two women who dreamed big, worked hard, and left something meaningful behind for generations to come.

Tracy, how has motherhood evolved for you in this “grown kids” chapter, especially as you’ve poured your creative energy into something that feels like another kind of baby — your brand?

Motherhood looks very different in this chapter, but it’s just as meaningful. When your children are grown, you shift from being their daily caretaker to being more of a guide and cheerleader. There’s a beautiful freedom in that — it allows you to rediscover yourself, your passions, and what fulfills you beyond motherhood.

Building Vontélle has absolutely been like raising another child. It’s taken nurturing, sleepless nights, hard lessons, and so much love. The difference is that now, my son gets to witness me pursuing my purpose — not just providing, but creating. It’s shown him that growth doesn’t stop at any age, and that reinvention is part of life’s journey.

I often say Vontélle represents legacy — not just for me, but for him too. The brand is rooted in culture, identity, and vision, and in many ways, it’s an extension of the values I tried to instill as a mother: confidence, creativity, and community.

When you look back at your journey, how has entrepreneurship redefined your sense of identity beyond motherhood?

Entrepreneurship was always in our DNA. Nancey ran an indie publishing company and wrote novels while holding a full-time job, and Tracy managed real estate and tax clients on the side. Stepping into full-time entrepreneurship gave us permission to rediscover ourselves and our capabilities on another level.

While motherhood is a beautiful, defining part of who we are, building Vontélle allowed us to embrace our creativity, leadership, and voice in new ways. It reminded us that we can be both nurturers and innovators—that ambition and compassion can coexist. We’ve learned that our identities are multifaceted: we’re mothers, businesswomen, dreamers, and trailblazers. Entrepreneurship didn’t take away from motherhood; it expanded it.

Tracy, what has your son taught you about reinvention and independence that’s influenced how you lead and dream in this stage of life?

My son has taught me so much about living boldly and unapologetically. He’s not afraid to do what he wants to do — to follow his passions without being limited by fear or convention. My generation was raised to value stability: get a good job, work long hours, build security, and make sure it comes with benefits. His generation approaches life differently — they value experiences, creativity, and joy.

For him, work isn’t just about a paycheck; it’s about purpose. It’s something that should enhance who you are, not define or confine you. Watching him live that way has been a lesson for me too. He’s now in San Francisco pursuing his MFA, fully immersed in art, fashion, travel, food, and friendship — truly enjoying life.

He’s reminded me that reinvention never ends. You can always evolve, create, and find new ways to express yourself. His courage to live authentically has made me a more open, creative, and intentional leader — both in life and in business.

Nancey, when your son looks at what you’ve built, what do you hope he sees — not just in your success, but in who you are as a woman and mother?

My son may not fully understand everything I do, but I believe he feels it — the love, the drive, and the purpose behind it all. I hope that when he looks at me, he sees a mother who never gave up, even when the path was hard. I want him to know that I built something out of faith and determination, and that every late night, every challenge, was fueled by love for him. More than success, I hope he feels my strength and understands that he is my “why.” Vontélle is a reflection of that — a reminder that we can create beauty and impact even while carrying the weight of our most personal responsibilities.

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