when your world gets bigger

I often hear new moms say that when you become a mom, your priorities shift and nothing else matters anymore.

And yes, my son is more important than any send. He's more important than my career. If I had to choose, I'd choose him every single time.

But I still care deeply about climbing. I still care about my work as a coach and a therapist. I still care about becoming stronger, learning, growing, and building something meaningful in addition to motherhood.

It doesn't feel like those things compete with my love for my son. It feels like they're held in a different part of my heart. Motherhood didn't replace the passions I already had. It expanded them, making my life even more abundant.

Of course, the reality is that there is one place where they do compete: my time.

Time is finite. Every hour I spend climbing, coaching, or training is an hour I'm not with my son, and that is a real trade-off. I can't do everything or be everywhere all at once. Different seasons will require different sacrifices.

Even writing that word, 'sacrifice,' stings a little when I think about sacrificing time with my child.

But I think it's healthy for him to see that the people he loves are whole people, with passions, goals, friendships, and dreams outside of parenthood. And I believe it's possible to be a deeply present mother while still making space for the other parts of myself that bring me joy and purpose.

It looks different than it did before. There IS less time available, and these passions no longer get the same share of my life. But, for me, I think it's important, and reasonable, to make sure they still have a place.

I want my son to grow up watching me pursue things that matter to me. Not because they're more important than he is, but because they're part of who I am. Pursuing my passions makes me a better mother because it helps refill my own cup, leaving me with more to give him.

I've always said that's what I want for him, too.

I hope he discovers things that light him up. I hope he finds work that feels meaningful, hobbies that challenge him, and people and places that make him come alive. I hope he knows that loving his family deeply and pursuing his own passions aren't mutually exclusive.

The greatest gift I can give him isn't a mother who gave up every part of herself to raise him.

It's showing him by example that loving someone deeply shouldn't shrink your world, it should make it bigger.