Why motherhood (matrescence) can feel both beautiful and disorienting at the same time.
Did you know flamingos lose their pink when they become parents?
Their vibrant feathers fade as their bodies pour everything they have into nurturing their babies. The nutrients that once kept them bright are redirected toward survival, caregiving, and keeping their young alive.
For a season, they look nothing like themselves.
And when I first learned that, something about it hit me deeply. Because motherhood can feel like that too.
You spend so much of yourself caring for everyone else that one day you look up and barely recognize the person staring back at you.
Your body changes.
Your mind changes.
Your priorities change.
Even your identity shifts in ways no one fully prepares you for.
For me, motherhood didn’t arrive gently. It came with triplets, NICU trauma, anxiety, survival mode, and years of feeling emotionally stretched beyond capacity.
And somewhere in the middle of caring for everyone else, I lost pieces of myself.
But slowly, very slowly, I feel like my color is starting to come back.
Not because I’ve “bounced back.” Not because life became easier. But because I finally understand that motherhood wasn’t the end of who I was. It was the beginning of becoming someone new.
What Is Matrescence?
Matrescence is the physical, emotional, hormonal, and psychological transition into motherhood. Much like adolescence, it reshapes your identity completely.
And yet, it’s something we barely talk about.
We talk about pregnancy.
We talk about babies.
We talk about sleep deprivation.
But we rarely talk about the identity shift that happens when you become a mother.
The version of you that existed before motherhood doesn’t simply disappear.
But she changes.
And learning how to hold both versions of yourself at once can feel incredibly disorienting.
When Everything Changes at Once
Motherhood didn’t just change my routine.
It changed:
- My identity
- My relationships
- My mental health
- My career and business
- The way I viewed time, rest, and success
And with triplets? There was no slow transition into motherhood. No gentle learning curve. It was immediate survival mode.
- NICU stays.
- Physical recovery.
- Medical appointments.
- Sleep deprivation.
- Constant overstimulation.
- Trying to keep tiny humans alive while also trying to hold onto myself.
There simply wasn’t space to process the transformation while it was happening.
I was too busy surviving it.
The Part No One Talks About
The exhaustion wasn’t just physical. It was mental. Emotional. Invisible even. It was anxiety that sat quietly in the background of everything.
- The kind that makes your nervous system feel permanently “on.”
- The kind that convinces you rest is irresponsible.
- The kind that lingers long after the hard season technically ends.
And for a long time, I thought this was simply motherhood.
I didn’t realize how much of myself had been consumed by hypervigilance, pressure, and survival mode until things finally slowed down enough for me to notice it.
Why It Takes Time to Feel Like Yourself Again
One of the most comforting things I learned was that hormones alone can take up to two years to regulate postpartum.
But emotionally? Mentally? It can take even longer. Because motherhood changes more than just your body.
It changes your identity.
And the hard truth is that you don’t fully return to the person you were before.
You become someone new.
Someone shaped by love, grief, exhaustion, resilience, anxiety, joy, and responsibility all at once.
That realization used to make me sad. Now it feels freeing. Because instead of trying to “go back,” I started learning how to move forward.
What Helped Me Find My Way Back
Not all at once. Not perfectly. Just slowly. Little by little.
Here are a few things that helped me reconnect with myself during matrescence:
1. Accepting a Slower Pace
I stopped expecting myself to function as I did before motherhood. My capacity changed. And fighting that reality only made everything harder.
2. Adjusting My Expectations
I had to redefine productivity, success, and balance. Some seasons are for building. Some are for surviving. Both are valid.
3. Supporting My Mental Health
Healing wasn’t just about sleep or self-care. It was learning to acknowledge the anxiety I had normalized for years. It was giving myself permission to seek out support emotionally, mentally, and physically.
4. Letting Old and New Versions of Me Coexist
This may have been the biggest shift of all. I stopped trying to “find my old self.” Instead, I started making space for both versions of myself to exist together. The woman I was before motherhood. And the mother I’ve become because of it.
Final Thoughts
If you feel lost after motherhood…
You’re not failing. You’re not broken. You’re not disappearing.
You’re experiencing matrescence. And becoming someone new takes time.
Maybe that’s why the flamingo metaphor feels so comforting. Because the color does come back. Not always in the same way. Not all at once.
But slowly, gently, over time.
And maybe matrescence and motherhood isn’t about losing yourself forever. Maybe it’s about learning who you are now.
❓ FAQ Schema
What is matrescence?
Matrescence is the physical, emotional, hormonal, and psychological transition into motherhood. Much like adolescence, it involves major identity changes and emotional adjustment.
How long does matrescence last?
Matrescence looks different for every mother. Hormonal changes can last up to two years postpartum, but emotional identity shifts may continue for much longer.
Is it normal to feel lost after becoming a mother?
Yes. Many mothers experience identity loss, anxiety, overwhelm, or emotional disconnection during motherhood. These feelings are common and often connected to matrescence.
If motherhood has left you feeling emotionally overwhelmed or disconnected from who you used to be, you may also relate to my post about life after the NICU and the emotional realities of premature birth, where I share the lasting mental and emotional impact of survival mode parenting.
You may also enjoy reading about the invisible emotional labor many mothers carry every day, and how the constant mental load of motherhood can quietly affect identity, burnout, and self-worth.
