Let’s talk about the power and the transformation of motherhood... and why I’ve chosen a different path. A life without children. Now before anyone gasps dramatically and clutches their pearls, let me say that I dearly adore kids. I will coo at babies in strollers, who knows how to kneel down and talk to toddlers at eye level, who thinks nothing is more magical than a child’s laugh or more powerful than a mother’s intuition. I love the idea of motherhood. I respect it, deeply. I know what it is. I just know... it’s not for me.
And I’m okay with that.
Actually — more than okay.
I’ve spent the better part of my adult life learning who Emma is. Not who society thinks I should be. Not the checklist version of Emma that says "wife, mother, career woman, retiree." Nope. I’ve been doing the deep, sometimes messy, always illuminating work of figuring me out. And that’s a lifelong thing. I’m not even close to done. If you've been around here long enough, you probably know that I refuse to let society's rules define me.
Motherhood is an identity earthquake. It rearranges your body and your soul. Once that baby is in your arms — whether biologically, through adoption, as a stepmom, or simply when you step into a caregiving role — something in your wiring changes. Permanently.
Mothers don’t get to clock out. There’s no “off the clock.” You are now not just you, but forever someone’s mother. It’s an emotional tether that reshapes your priorities, your sense of self, your energy, your body, your mind, your goals, your identity. It’s incredible. And it’s intense.…
