Motherhood as Initiation: Moving from Survival to Self-Worth
The Initiation: Why Motherhood Feels Like Being “Dropped”
I’m likely going to keep referring back to this because the correlations and parallels are relevant to what I hear all the time surrounding motherhood, especially postpartum.
I’m watching the show Alone. You know the one—where people are just dropped into the wilderness and left to figure it out. It’s supposed to be a test of survival, but as I watch, I can’t help but think:
This is exactly what the initiation into motherhood can feel like.
In so many ways I felt like I was being dropped into motherhood. And the thing is, when we say "I dropped the ball," we usually mean we made a mistake. But in motherhood, it feels like we are the ball. The system drops us, the village drops us, and eventually, we learn to drop ourselves.
Or as harsh as this sounds, it happens in reverse—we drop the ball on ourselves, the system supports it and commends it, the village drops us and it keeps trickling until we decide we aren't the ball that gets dropped anymore. Until we learn to hold ourselves and know that we are the glass ball that doesn't get dropped when life gets full. Instead, it's the laundry, or the toys staying scattered, or...
The Systemic Lack of Postpartum Support
The reason it feels like a "drop" is because our culture views motherhood as extractive or simply devalued.
We are expected to go back to work in six to twelve weeks. We are expected to keep up, to hustle, and to prove our worth by how much we can handle and produce while just having a baby. We are told to override our bodies, take a pill, and move on.
We are sold that soothing our babies with our breast is wrong, yet soothing them on silicone is natural... literally backwards. We are sold it's normal to drop our babies off at daycare then school for 8 plus hours a day, yet when a mother says she is a stay at home mom, the room shifts as if she is to be seen as "less than" or doesn't bring enough value and the conversation quickly glosses over.
Choosing Self-Care Over the Motherhood Hustle
And we have participated in this drop. We allow ourselves to skip a meal when in a hurry. We support our bodies' signs and symptoms in being overridden and medicated in order to manage and keep going. We ignore our intuition and beg for it to stay quiet a little longer. Until our bodies break and we can't ignore it.
We drop ourselves until our drop becomes our bottom. Yet this is almost—dare I say—applauded and praised. It comes off in the comments:
"I don't know how you do it all."
"I wish I could keep up like you do."
"We couldn't do it without you."
"You are so selfless."
Yet a woman who holds herself—well, she is almost ostracized for having standards and taking up space. She is told she is too audacious. I can’t believe you spend that much time on you. I can’t believe you let him watch the kids (referring to the other parent, their dad). Wow, how do you make time to work out.
People are in awe of her, yet they are secretly whispering she is selfish. Somewhere inside she might hear those same whispers, but that is the story we are sold in motherhood: that to be selfless is admirable.
I beg to differ.
The woman who knows she is worth it knows that having a sense of self is the greatest gift we can give ourselves and others. Not in an ego way, but in an embodied self-worth way. Motherhood isn't a hustle. It's an initiation.
“I don’t want our initiation into motherhood to feel like someone dropping a ball. I want a different way. A way where you don’t drop yourself, and you don’t let others drop you either.”
Building a Village Based on Radical Responsibility
To stop the "drop" requires a shift into radical responsibility. This isn't about doing more; it’s about knowing yourself deeply enough to know your desires, your wants, and your needs. It is to be able to take up space, pursue your interests, to have hobbies and things you enjoy. It is about carving out time for you and prioritizing it.
It means being able to ask for those things—and actually being able to receive them. It means creating a village that respects your boundaries. It means teaching people how you want to be treated, which starts with you treating yourself how you want to be treated.
I know that not everyone has the capacity or the schedule to meet you every time, and that isn’t a reflection of your worth. It just is life. But when you have a village that is built on your own sense of self—not the old one—you find that you aren't being dropped. You are being held.
Reimagining the Postpartum Initiation
I want us to stop being "dropped" into the wilderness. I want our initiation to be a slow unfolding, a steady flow of love and support starting with ourselves and then extending into the community. I want a space where you are cared for. Where you are protected. Where you are allowed to move at an easeful flow instead of a frantic hustle.
It is a sacred initiation where there is no room to be dropped.
Allow yourself to take up space. Step into your worth—and let them think or comment however they so please. They are going to do it anyway, so you might as well let it not be at your expense. Step into the divine responsibility of holding yourself and see who holds you, too.
PS: If you haven’t gathered it yet—you are the glass ball. You are worthy. You are highly favored. You are enough. You are loved. You are whole. You are inherently valuable.
If you want support in how to hold yourself before your initiation into motherhood—before the "drop" begins—to ensure you have the care you deserve, I invite you to Step Into Your Becoming. Whether you are preparing for your first postpartum or you are already in the thick of it and ready to stop dropping yourself, let’s see what is possible when you choose to be held.
If you are interested in learning more - click here to connect.
You are not alone. You are unfolding. Sending you so much love.
