Momma: The Reboot, at 40
I said that being a mom in my 40s is easier—and I meant it. It is. But if I’m being completely honest… it’s also not.
Because easier doesn’t mean easy. It doesn’t mean I don’t cry in the bathroom or snap at my husband for asking if I’m okay. It doesn’t mean I didn’t grieve the job I left behind or that my hormones haven’t turned me into someone I barely recognize some days.
It just means I’ve lived long enough to hold two truths at once:
This is the life I love.
And it’s also the life that’s stretching me in ways I never expected.
Let’s Talk About the Job I Walked Away From
I left a job I loved—not tolerated, not clocked in and out of—a job that made me feel purposeful, creative, confident. It gave me an identity outside of bottles and nap times. I didn’t leave it lightly.
I chose my baby. I chose to be present. I chose this chapter with full intention.
But sometimes, I still miss that woman. The one who had meetings, deadlines, lunch breaks with adults. The one who felt seen for something other than how many diapers she changed or how good she is at calming a meltdown.
I don’t regret it. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt to let that part of me go.
The Hormones Are Out Here Wrecking Me
Let’s get raw for a minute.
Postpartum in your 40s is no joke. My body feels different. My moods swing like a pendulum in a windstorm. I say things I don’t mean and feel things I can’t always explain.
Some days I wake up as Wonder Woman. Other days, I’m sobbing over spilt milk and questioning everything.
And the guilt? Oh, she’s loud. Loud enough to make me think I’m failing—when I’m just feeling.
I Miss Me—And I Love This Life
This is the hardest part to admit:
I love this new life. I really do.
And I also miss who I was before.
There’s this tug-of-war between contentment and identity. I pour so much of myself into mothering that sometimes I look up and wonder where I went.
It’s lonely sometimes, even with a baby in my arms.
It’s beautiful, and it’s exhausting.
It’s full, but it costs something.
But Here’s What I Know:
- I’m not the same woman I was—and that’s okay.
- Losing parts of yourself doesn’t mean you’re lost forever.
- Motherhood isn’t the end of me. It’s just… a remix (a reboot if you will).
This season is showing me parts of myself I never knew existed—strength, softness, humor in the chaos, grace when I stumble. I’m learning to mother my child and myself at the same time.
So Yes, It’s Easier. But It’s Also Harder.
And I’m allowed to say that out loud.
I’m allowed to grieve the old me and still embrace the new one.
I’m allowed to cry in the bathroom and still show up with love.
I’m allowed to want more someday, even when this is everything right now.
This is the reboot, after all. Not a reset. Not a return. A real, raw, messy, magical reboot.
And I’m still writing it—one pajama-wearing, messy- hair, hormone-fueled, baby-snuggling day at a time.
Thank you for being here and reading my words. If you’ve made it this far, I hope something in this post made you feel seen, less alone, or maybe even a little lighter.
Motherhood in your 40s—heck, life in your 40s—isn’t always tidy or simple, but it’s real. And if you’re walking a similar path—figuring it out day by day, loving deeply, crying randomly, and wondering where “you” went—I see you.
We’re in this together, pajamas, hormones, coffee, and all.
Until next time,
Momma: Rebooting 💛
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