Motherhood Identity Series with Madison Headrick Nahmad, model and founder of Care.e.on
This mom of one and model-turned-CEO opens up about building a beauty brand, embracing the sacred chaos of new motherhood & why becoming David’s mom is the role that changed everything.
Before she was the founder of an award-winning self-care brand, before she walked the runways of the world’s top fashion capitals, Madison Headrick Nahmad was an athlete with a color-coded planner and an unshakable sense of discipline. She became a model by chance, but success was no accident: Madison built her career with entrepreneurial foresight and a drive to one day create something of her own.
That vision became Care.e.on, a beauty brand born out of the chaos of constant travel and a commitment to making self-care more seamless. It recently won ‘Best Self-Care Brand’ at FounderMade.
Then came David James.
Now almost a year into motherhood, Madison is navigating her boldest identity shift yet. As a new mom, a CEO, and a woman deeply in touch with her Southern roots and spiritual sense of self, she’s redefining what success, ambition, and care look like.
In this conversation, Madison opens up about the quiet power of postpartum transformation, the beauty of letting go, and the unexpected ways her perfectionism thrives (hello, jarred purées). This is motherhood through the lens of a woman who’s lived many lives—but has never felt more grounded than she does right now.
You’ve reinvented yourself many times—athlete, model, founder, now mother. How has this most recent identity shift into motherhood surprised or challenged you the most?
It’s interesting—modeling was never something I actively pursued: it found me. But once I stepped into it, I poured everything into building a meaningful, successful career. What many don’t realize is that behind the glamour, I was always thinking like an entrepreneur. From a young age, I had the vision and discipline to save, plan, and build toward something of my own. Modeling opened incredible doors, but it also gave me the means to one day launch Care.e.on—a brand born from purpose and passion.
Becoming a founder was a major shift, but nothing compares to the transformation that comes with motherhood. I’ve worked since I was 15 years old—work gave me drive, identity, fulfillment. And yet, all of that pales in comparison to what I feel now. The moment I became a mother, my entire worldview changed. Priorities I once held closely simply fell away.
People used to say, “You don’t know what love is until you have a child,” and I’d think, Of course I know love—I adore my family, my friends, and I’m obsessed with my dog. So yeah.. I know love and will obviously love my kid. But now? Now I truly understand.
I found people saying that over and over to me for so many years, and so nonchalantly, SHOCKING now that I know what they meant. That love is profound. It’s all-encompassing. I look at my son and think: This is it. This is everything. For all the titles I’ve held—athlete, fashion model, CEO—nothing has felt more true, more powerful, or more right than being David’s mom. It’s the greatest role of my life.
So much of your early success was driven by discipline and structure. Has motherhood reshaped your relationship with control, perfectionism, or self-expectation?
Whether it was arriving on time for international flights, staying professional on set, or managing the nonstop pace of fashion while maintaining good grades. I’ve always held myself to high standards. To paint a picture: I was the girl in high school with a color-coded planner, an immaculately organized binder, and a love for back-to-school shopping.
Motherhood hasn’t taken that part of me away — if anything, it’s amplified it. This week, I steamed, puréed, jarred, and labeled all of David’s food, and the joy it brought me was honestly akin to that first-day-of-school excitement.
I hand wash his bottles, keep the sterilization station spotless, and organize his clothes and nursery with the same meticulousness I’ve always had. I hold myself to an even higher standard now — to be the best mom I can be for David. I’m sure this level of perfectionism will ease with time… or maybe with baby number two (hopefully). But every new mom is a little neurotic with their first, right? Please say yes: I’m still postpartum and emotionally fragile.
You founded care.ē.on with a mission to make self-care more accessible. Has becoming a mom changed what self-care looks like—or means—to you?
Living out of a carry-on suitcase and hopping from city to city for over a decade took a serious toll on me—physically, mentally, emotionally. It wasn’t until I started prioritizing self-care that I truly felt a shift. But here’s the irony: I built Care.e.on because I hated the stress of packing, planning, and transferring products into travel-size bottles—and now I find myself doing a very similar drill… just for a baby.
I used to think prepping for a month-long fashion week was intense… try packing for a two-hour playdate. The diapers, the pacifier, the bottle, the wipes, the backup outfit (because blowouts don’t announce themselves)… fitting all that into a stroller basket should be considered an Olympic event. The last thing I used to think about was something for me.
That’s exactly why Care.e.on has become even more essential. It got me through fashion week, and now it lives in my stroller. Whether it’s a quick spritz of face mist during nap time or the hydrating mask and playlist at cruising altitude, self-care has never been about luxury—it’s about sanity. And when I take care of myself, I show up better—for my work, and most importantly, for my son.
In the modeling world, physical appearance and performance are constantly scrutinized. How did pregnancy and postpartum impact your body image, and what helped you stay grounded?
I’m going to be as honest as possible here — because I wish more model moms would speak on this candidly — and I’ll try not to get scrutinized or canceled in the process (cue the irony, right?).
Growing up in the South, my world revolved around sports. Body image wasn’t about being the skinniest or the hottest: it was about being strong, fast, and focused. I was tall, lanky, and definitely not the girl the boys were chasing. But I was okay with that. I wasn’t the best athlete, but I worked the hardest and cared the most. So from an early age, my relationship with my body was rooted in strength and function, not aesthetics.
Then came modeling, where let’s just say the sample size reality hits hard. When I started, some fit models could be 14 years old, so if you were 25, good luck squeezing into those same proportions. The pressure was real, but I had a solid foundation. I was lucky: blessed with good metabolism in the early days, and even when that changed, I learned how to fuel and move my body in a healthy way. I never struggled with disordered eating, even with all the noise from the industry and the internet. I always knew when I needed to be more disciplined and when I’d gone too far. I respected my body, and it respected me back.
But if I’m being brutally honest: pregnancy was the first time I truly struggled with my body image. The changes were rapid and out of my control. My belly button disappeared (which seriously freaked me out), and I felt like a stranger in my own skin. And then came the guilt… how could I feel this way when I was growing a miracle?
There’s an intense pressure on models to bounce back, and now, thanks to social media, everyone gets to weigh in. “She aged,” “She gained weight,” “She doesn’t look the same,” “Must be Ozempic.” It’s exhausting. Throw postpartum hormones into the mix, and it can feel like you’re drowning.
What got me through was time. Time to let the hormones level out. Time to bond with my baby. Time to see my body not as something to be critiqued, but as something that created life.
I still have days when I catch myself being critical, but then I look at my son and remember—this body is a damn superhero.
What identity or strength from your Southern upbringing do you find yourself leaning on as a mother now?
Family, hands down. I was raised in a big, loud, loving Southern household where family came first, always. Even though I live in New York now, that core value never left me. My superhero of a mom still flies up at least once a month to help out, and we have daily FaceTime dates with relatives we can’t see in person. I want my son to feel that same sense of connection and love that I was lucky enough to grow up with. No matter where we are, I want him to know he’s surrounded by his people.
You built a career that required independence from a young age. What values or skills from that time do you hope to pass on to your son?
Confidence. I left home young and built a career in an industry that demanded independence—and the only reason I could do that was because I truly believed in myself. I was definitely scared at times, but confidence always managed to quiet the fear.
Since COVID, I’ve noticed how easy it is for kids to be bold online but timid in real life. I really hope my son takes after me in one way. I’m notoriously terrible with my phone. I don’t love texting, and I’m the worst at replying. But maybe that’s a blessing. I want him to be present, to live out loud, and to build real-world confidence, not just a digital one.
How has your view of ambition evolved since becoming a mother? Do you feel a different kind of drive now, or has your definition of success shifted?
I’m still finding my footing here, to be honest. Some days, I feel like I can do it all—model, run a business, be completely present for my son—and then there are days when I’m in tears because work pulled me away, and I just want to freeze time and soak up every second with him.
Motherhood has taught me that being a stay-at-home mom is one of the hardest, most under-appreciated jobs out there. And yet, society seems to criticize both ends of the spectrum: moms who step back from work to be home with their kids, and moms who go to work and have help during the day. It’s a no-win game unless you define success for yourself.
For me, success used to be about accolades, goals, and growth. Now? It’s about raising a boy who is caring and kind and who will one day look at his mom and feel proud. That’s the drive that fuels me now.
What’s something that surprised you about early motherhood—emotionally, physically, or spiritually—that no one prepared you for?
How deeply connected I felt to God throughout the entire journey—pregnancy, childbirth, and even now. I’ve always been spiritual, but becoming a mother was truly otherworldly. It’s impossible for me to imagine going through it and not believing in something greater.
Women are absolute miracles. We create life. It still blows my mind. I’ve always respected mothers, but now, that reverence is on an entirely different level. There’s this unspoken bond between moms—like when you pass another mom on the street and, without saying a word, you just know. We’re strangers, but we’ve walked through something sacred together. That quiet sisterhood is something no one warned me about… and I’m so glad they didn’t. It’s a beautiful surprise.
Being the face of your brand while mothering a newborn is no small feat. How are you managing visibility, vulnerability, and boundaries in this season?
It’s definitely a juggle—and some days, it feels like a circus act. When David is awake, I’m all in. My phone and laptop are in the other room, and I give him my full attention. When he naps, I switch into work mode—emails, Zooms, strategy. I used to feel guilty when I was working, and then guilty again when I wasn’t working enough. It was a lose-lose cycle, so I had to reset. For now, the nap-time hustle is working, and I’m learning to give myself grace.
Boundaries have become essential. In the beginning, I felt pressure—even from close friends—to still be the “old me.” The one who could go out, have fun, not check the baby monitor 20 times during dinner. But the truth is, I’m not that person anymore—and I’m proud of that. I love my new life. Yes, it’s important to recharge and see friends, but honoring my instincts and protecting my time with my son is non-negotiable.
And when it comes to visibility and leadership—I’ve found that vulnerability is actually a strength. I’m lucky to have a powerhouse team of incredible women at Care.e.on. They know if they’re getting 3 a.m. emails, it’s because I’m breastfeeding. They step in, they support, they just get it. Being honest with them about where I’m at—not pretending I have it all perfectly balanced—has made work life so much more human. And honestly? So much better.
When your son grows up and learns about who you were before you were 'mom,' what do you hope he sees in that version of you?
I hope he isn’t embarrassed by my style choices. More than anything, I hope he sees someone who chased her dreams, worked hard, stayed true to herself, and did it all with heart. And I hope he knows that no matter what I accomplished before him, becoming his mom is my greatest pride.