Somewhere along the way, my 30s snuck up on me. It’s weird because I still feel young enough to remember the wide-eyed way I stumbled through my early years of motherhood, but I’m also seasoned enough now to look back and cringe a little (maybe even cry) at some of the choices I made. I don’t mean the big, life-altering regrets; just the little things: the pressure I put on myself, the moments I rushed instead of savoring, the way I tried to parent like I had something to prove.
But here’s the grace of it: with three kids and a little more life behind me, I’ve learned that regret doesn’t have to be the period at the end of the sentence. It can be the rewrite, the chance to approach motherhood differently, softer, wiser, and with more self-love.
Regret: I went back to work too early.
I hate feeling incompetent. I thought stepping right back into my routine would make me feel strong and “normal” again, but really it just left me exhausted and missing things I didn’t have to miss. I deeply regret going to college classes two weeks after my c-section, and then back to the classroom two weeks after that. What was I thinking?
Rewrite: Now I understand that slowing down isn’t a weakness. It’s wisdom. If I could redo it, I’d give myself permission to rest, heal, and soak in those fleeting newborn days. You’ll never get them back.
Regret: I was over-thinking everything.
From sleep schedules to snack choices, I analyzed every decision like it was going on a permanent record. It never really mattered which brand of goldfish I bought or what color the crib sheets were. Why did I stress over something so miniscule?
Rewrite: These days, I remind myself that kids need love more than they need perfection. Sometimes the best choice is the simple one.
Regret: I bought things I didn’t need.
Every gadget and “must-have” baby item promised to make life easier, but most of them ended up in the closet. Honestly, I fell for every sales gimmick when all my babies needed was me.
Rewrite: I’ve learned that babies need far less than marketing tells us. My money (and sanity) are better spent on experiences, not clutter.
Regret: I spent too much time online.
Scrolling for answers and comparing my motherhood to strangers became a habit I didn’t even notice at first. I made a lot of lifelong friends, but I also induced anxiety by looking up and overanalyzing symptoms, choices, and products.
Rewrite: Now I know the best “advice” comes from trusting myself, and the best memories come from looking up instead of looking down at a screen. Just be present.
Regret: I cared too much about what other people thought.
Whether it was family, friends, or moms at school drop-off, I let other people’s opinions weigh more than my own instincts. I was deeply hurt at the “Aww where are her socks???” comments on a hot summer day. I worried about things that didn’t matter.
Rewrite: These days, I remind myself that no one knows my kids like I do. Confidence grows when I tune out the noise and trust my gut. I don’t mind being the villain in someone’s mind, if it comes at the expense of loving and protecting my children.
Regret: I didn’t ask for help.
I wore myself out trying to prove I could do it all. I took on WAY too much, way too soon.
Rewrite: Now I see that asking for help doesn’t make me less of a mom, but it makes me a healthier one. Community matters. Letting others in has been life-giving.
Regret: I put unnecessary pressure on myself because I couldn’t say no.
I measured my worth by how much I could juggle, and I always felt like I was falling short. Did I mention I took on WAY too much?
Rewrite: I’m learning to trade “doing it all” for “doing what matters.” My kids don’t need a perfect mom; they need a present one. I’m learning to say “no” to the things that don’t bring me peace, so I can make room for what does.
Regret doesn’t have to be heavy, but it can be a great teacher. Every “I wish I had done that differently” has turned into an opportunity to do better now. My rewrites aren’t about getting it perfect; they’re about letting go of the pressure and leaning into giving myself grace.
