What If We Treated Mothers Like the Sacred Force They Are?

What if we reimagined it? The sacred work isn’t only in birthing. You are sacred.

What if we stopped seeing mothers as exhausted, self-sacrificing caretakers — and instead honored them as powerful forces of creation, transformation, and love?

What if motherhood wasn’t the thing that quietly takes from a woman, but the role that society proudly supports, uplifts, and protects?

Because here’s the truth: motherhood is sacred. Not just because it brings new life into the world, but because it fundamentally reshapes a woman from the inside out — her brain, her body, her priorities, her very sense of self.

And yet, we treat it like an afterthought.

At baby showers, we give swaddles and pacifiers.
At birth, we ask the weight of the baby.
At postpartum check-ups, we check on stitches, not spirits.

But the woman? The one who just experienced the most profound identity shift of her life? She often fades into the background, expected to be grateful, glowing, and back to normal in six weeks.

The problem isn’t just personal. It’s systemic.

We have built a culture that extracts from mothers, but rarely pours back in.

What if instead of telling moms to “bounce back,” we told them:

🌿 You are becoming.
🌿 You are wise.
🌿 You are meant to be supported through this.


What if we built village-style care into modern parenting, with doulas not just for birth, but for postpartum; support circles, flexible work, and space for ritual, rest, and reflection?

What if we taught mothers how the brain actually rewires in motherhood , that the overwhelm, the “mom brain,” the loss of identity, isn’t failure. It’s transformation.

And what if we didn’t just tell them “you’ve got this,” but actually got it with them, holding, helping, witnessing.

It’s in the showing up again and again.

The kissing of bruises, the listening to stories that go on forever, the surrender of personal space, sleep, and silence.

It’s in how she holds it all, sometimes with grace, sometimes with shaking hands, and keeps going anyway.

That is sacred.

That is powerful.

That is what we should be honoring - not just with flowers on Mother’s Day, but with systems, stories, and support that reflect her worth.