Mothers Are Not Meant to Disappear

 One of the most damaging lies mothers are told—especially in the church—is that we must disappear to prove our love.

Growing up as a preacher’s kid, I didn’t always hear this message spoken outright. But it was there, woven through every sermon about “biblical womanhood,” every lesson about submission and sacrifice, every passing comment about what girls should want.

I was being raised to believe that the highest calling a woman could ever have was to become a wife and mother—and that anything outside of that was, at best, a distraction, and at worst, rebellion.

It wasn’t just me. I’ve watched so many women come out of conservative, religious homeschool environments where this mindset was even more explicit. Girls weren’t simply encouraged to value family—they were groomed to see motherhood as the only acceptable ambition. Careers were suspect. Education was optional. Independence was dangerous.

And if you dared to want something more—to travel, to learn, to build something of your own—you were selfish. Unsubmissive. A threat.

Some of these young women had to run away to get an education or escape arranged marriages. Some of them are still trying to figure out who they are because they were never allowed to imagine a life beyond their reproductive potential.

Even now, as an adult, I see this lie show up everywhere:

• In the mom blogs that shame women for not devoting every waking moment to their children.
• In the churches that offer parenting classes but never talk about a mother’s mental health or sense of purpose.
• In the social media posts that say “your children are your ministry,” as if the only value you have is in what you do for others.

But I refuse to surrender my essence.

My children deserve a mother who is fully alive—not a shadow of herself. They deserve to see me learn, grow, laugh, and pursue the things that light me up inside. They deserve to see that womanhood is not defined solely by sacrifice.

I am allowed to nurture them without abandoning my own growth. I am allowed to be both: a loving parent and a person with her own story.

This is not narcissism. This is humanity.

If you grew up being told that disappearing was the highest virtue you could aspire to, I want you to know: you are allowed to exist for yourself. You are allowed to have ambitions and dreams that have nothing to do with your children. You are allowed to be whole.

And if you’re still trying to unlearn the idea that love equals self-erasure, I’m right here with you.

We were never created to burn ourselves down to keep everyone else warm.