The Mother I Thought I’d Be

Before becoming mothers, many women already have a picture of the mother they will be. Patient, present, loving. Perhaps more understanding than their own mothers were, or determined to give their children something they missed growing up.

Then a real child arrives, with needs no one can fully anticipate, and the gap between the mother she imagined and the woman she is starts to show.

A woman may have wanted motherhood for years, prepared carefully and felt ready for the changes ahead. Finding herself impatient, overwhelmed or longing for time alone can bring an unexpected sense of guilt.

I think we underestimate how hard that gap can be.

The mother we carry within us

Our ideas about motherhood begin forming long before we consider having children.

We grow up watching how our mothers and other caregivers handle affection, conflict and exhaustion. We notice what is expected of women in our families, and what goes unrecognised.

Becoming a mother often brings our own childhood closer. Sometimes we hear our mother’s voice in our own, in exactly the moments we hoped to do differently.

A woman who grew up with a critical mother may be especially hard on her own moments of impatience. And if your mother seemed to give up everything for her children, wanting something for yourself can feel almost forbidden.

Our personal histories shape what we believe a good mother should be, and how we judge ourselves when we fall short of that image.

When trying harder stops working

For women who have always expected a lot of themselves, motherhood can be unsettling.

What served them well in other areas of life, preparing well and working harder until they find the solution, suddenly works less reliably. Babies are unpredictable, their needs change constantly, and even the most attentive parent cannot prevent every difficult moment.

A review of studies found that mothers with stronger perfectionistic concerns, such as a fear of making mistakes, reported more symptoms of depression and anxiety during pregnancy and after birth (Evans, Kreppner & Lawrence, 2022). The fear of getting it wrong can make an already demanding transition harder.

Then there is social media. Alongside useful information about child development and attachment, mothers meet endless advice on raising emotionally healthy children. It can create the impression that every interaction has lasting consequences.

A mother may find herself wondering whether she responded quickly enough to her baby’s cries, whether her frustration caused harm, or whether she is doing enough to build a secure attachment.

The more she tries to get everything right, the harder it can become to tolerate the uncertainty that comes with raising a child.

Loving a child and missing your old life

A woman can love her child deeply and miss the freedom she once had. She can be grateful for her family and still resent how much of herself it takes. Sometimes she simply wants a break.

Psychoanalysis calls this coexistence of love and frustration towards the same person ambivalence, and sees it as a natural part of close relationships.

What often causes distress is the meaning mothers give these feelings. When motherhood is associated with endless patience and selflessness, frustration can feel like proof of personal failure.

These expectations also come from the world around us. Women are often expected to stay emotionally available while also carrying work, relationships and the household. How much support a mother has, and how care is shared at home, shapes how motherhood feels.

The good-enough mother

The British paediatrician and psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott introduced the idea of the good-enough mother. He described a caregiver who responds sensitively to her baby’s needs, while gradually allowing for ordinary frustrations that the child becomes able to manage.

His work feels especially relevant at a time when many mothers worry about getting attachment right.

Developmental psychologist Edward Tronick’s research on parent–infant interaction shows that moments of misattunement are common. Parents and babies often misread each other’s signals and then find their way back into connection. These experiences of repair are part of healthy development.

Children need safety and responsive care. They don’t need a mother who never loses her patience. What matters is what happens afterwards: noticing, acknowledging and finding each other again. The relationship grows through many such everyday moments.

For women who hold themselves to very high standards, accepting these ordinary limits can be hard. A moment of impatience can leave them ashamed for hours, replaying what happened and worrying about what it might have caused.

I often think about how much of motherhood involves getting to know ourselves again. Our children meet us in ways few other relationships do. Their dependency and their affection can bring up feelings and memories we had not reached for a long time.

There is value in becoming curious about these reactions, and where they come from.

The mother we imagined was shaped by our history and our wishes. The one we become has to find her way with a real child, who has a personality and needs of their own.

Perhaps part of becoming a mother is gradually letting go of the expectation that we should already know how to be one.