The Lie of "Living for Yourself": Why the Mess of Motherhood is Worth the Risk

There is a trend circulating on social media lately that stops me in my tracks. You might have seen it. Someone asks AI:

“If you were the devil and wanted to destroy the mental health and mindset of mothers, what would you do?”

The answers are terrifyingly accurate. They describe a system designed to make us feel inadequate, disconnected, and drained. And frankly, I feel that.

We are bombarded with conflicting images every time we unlock our phones. On one side, we see the “Perfect Mother”—homeschooling effortlessly, cooking organic meals from scratch, with a spotless house. On the other side, we see the “Realist Mother”—showing only the misery, the tantrums, and the exhaustion.

And then, there is a third voice. It is the voice of modern society leaning hard into a specific brand of hyper-independence. It says: “Women don’t need families to be whole. You don’t need a man. You can do it all alone. Live for you.”

In my opinion, this narrative is dangerous. It is convincing many women to trade a life of deep fulfillment for a life of “freedom,” and I fear many will ultimately regret it.

The Partner Paradox

Let’s address the “you don’t need a man” narrative, because I hear it constantly.

Let me be clear: Of course you don’t.

I am a capable woman. I could absolutely live alone. I could provide for my family by myself. I could pay the bills, manage the home, and survive on my own. I don’t need a partner to exist or to be successful.

But there is a massive difference between needing someone for survival and choosing someone for a shared life.

Choosing to share your life with the right man is a joy that solitary independence simply cannot match. I am talking about a man who provides, who positively contributes to the relationship, who is loyal, and who has the qualities to be a good father.

I could do this life solo, but I would never trade the relationship I have. My partner is my best friend and the best dad to our children. There is a profound strength in looking across the chaos of parenting and seeing a teammate. We aren’t less “strong” for wanting that partnership; we are richer for it.

The Void That Freedom Can’t Fill

Even with a partner, the urge to nurture is its own beast. I have felt the pull of motherhood since I was young, even back in college. It was a physical urge to take care of another being. Being young and still in school, I thought I could fill that void with a pet.

I wanted a dog or a cat—something to hold. My partner at the time shut that down, so we compromised on a fish.

Spoiler alert: A fish did not satisfy the need.

Soon after college, when I bought my first house, my boyfriend (now husband) and I got a dog. A big dog. And then another one. I loved them, and I was happy for a while. But that deep, nagging sense that something was missing didn’t go away.

It wasn’t until we had our first girl that the noise in my heart finally quieted down.

The Myth of the “Free” Life

I look around today and I see people who are past child-rearing age who decided to live for themselves. They chose the free life. Every minute belongs to them. No one dictates their schedule. Their furniture is clean; their bank accounts are likely healthier than mine.

But many of them are also profoundly lonely.

There is a distinct difference between “being alone” and “being free.” When you are young, total freedom feels like a luxury. But as we age, that freedom can curdle into isolation. I see people who regret not working harder to build a family when they had the chance.

The Beautiful, Exhausting Reality

I am now on my fourth child.

Let me be clear: Kids are hard. They are frustrating. They will make you doubt yourself a thousand times before breakfast.

My house is often a mess. I feel like I live in the kitchen. Some days, I get absolutely nothing done on my “to-do” list. There are days I feel so drained that I fantasize about a vacation I definitely cannot afford.

But then, the chaos stops for a second.

I will catch myself just staring at one of my children. I watch them trying to understand something new, their eyes wide with wonderment. I see the little humans they are becoming—bright, full of light, and just loving life.

In those moments, the messy house doesn’t matter. The exhaustion fades. The realization hits me: It is in our nature to create life, and it is in our nature to nurture it.

A Note to the Fence-Sitters

If you truly know, deep in your soul, that children are not for you—then you know yourself better than anyone else. That is your path.

But, if you are not sure…

If you are listening to society tell you to “keep your freedom,” but you feel that little tug in your heart? If you have that little need to take care of something, or someone?

I am here to tell you that a family is not something you will regret.

Don’t let the fear of the “mess” scare you away from the magic. The exhaustion is real, but so is the love. And in the end, the love is the only thing that really matters.

Over to you: Did you ever feel that pull? Or did you struggle with the decision? I’d love to hear your story in the comments below—let’s remind each other why the hard days are worth it.