Becoming the Mom I Was Meant to Be

I used to think motherhood was taking away from me—my freedom, my independence, my ability to do things for myself. I felt like I had to wait for the right moment, the right help, or the right confidence to show up before I could step into the kind of mom I wanted to be. But then, I realized something: no one was going to hand me that confidence. I had to build it myself.

And it all started with a piece of salmon.

The First Time I Proved Myself

One night, I decided I was going to cook dinner on my own. It sounds small, but at the time, it felt huge. Cooking wasn’t something I had always been comfortable with, and honestly, the idea of messing it up made me want to wait for my husband to get home. What if I ruined it? What if it was inedible? What if I just wasn’t good at this?

I texted my best friends, letting them in on my little internal crisis. They texted back, encouraging me, hyping me up like only best friends can. *You’ve got this. It’s just salmon. What’s the worst that could happen?*

So I went for it.

I followed the recipe, second-guessed myself a hundred times, and probably hovered over the stove more than necessary. But when I plated that meal—perfectly cooked salmon, healthy, nourishing, something I had made with my own two hands—I felt something shift. I wasn’t just feeding my family. I was caring for them. And in doing that, I was proving something to myself.

I *could* do things. I *was* capable. And that feeling? It made me feel strong, but also feminine. Not in a fragile, delicate way, but in the way that comes from creating, nurturing, and stepping fully into who I was meant to be.

Finding the Balance: Strength and Support

That night wasn’t just about cooking—it was about learning that confidence comes from *doing*. But here’s the thing: just because I proved I could stand on my own didn’t mean I had to do everything alone.

For a long time, I thought being a “good” mom meant carrying it all—handling every little thing, never asking for help, being the default for everything. But that’s not what motherhood should be. Yes, I needed to prove to *myself* that I was capable, but I also needed to recognize that my husband and I are a team.

There’s a balance between independence and partnership. Between stepping up for yourself and allowing your spouse to step up *for you*. It shouldn’t be about waiting for our husbands to do everything *for* us, but it also shouldn’t be about constantly having to remind them to help. True partnership means both people showing up, both learning, both growing together.

And let’s be real—I didn’t enter marriage knowing exactly how to navigate that balance. I got married young, which meant a lot of this was trial and error, figuring it out as we went. But what I’ve learned is that I don’t have to carry everything *just because I can*. Yes, I’m capable. Yes, I can cook the salmon, manage the home, and build confidence in myself. But I can also lean on my husband without feeling like I’m failing.

Learning, Unlearning, and Becoming

One of the biggest lessons I’ve had to learn (and unlearn) is that just because I was or *wasn’t* taught something growing up doesn’t mean I have to stay stuck. If something isn’t working for me, I have the power to change it. If I wasn’t given certain tools, I can find them now.

Motherhood is a journey of becoming. Not just becoming a mom, but becoming *the mom I was meant to be*. The kind who trusts herself. The kind who isn’t afraid to make mistakes and learn from them. The kind who builds confidence not by waiting for it, but by stepping up and proving to herself that she’s capable.

And the kind who knows she doesn’t have to do it all alone.

So to the moms who feel like they’re drowning, who wonder if they’re doing it “right,” who feel like they’re either carrying too much or not enough—just know this: You’re learning. You’re growing. And every time you push through doubt, every time you try again, every time you prove to *yourself* that you can do it… you’re already becoming the mom you’re meant to be.