Hi {{ Name | there }},

Lately, I’ve noticed something strange.

I don’t take many pictures of myself after having my second baby.

If my kids are in the frame, I’ll smile (and often put on my sunglasses).

But alone? I avoid the camera.

Because every time I look, the woman I see doesn’t feel like… me.

I see the exhaustion on my face. I’m sleep-deprived.

I see the baby weight that clings on (despite my efforts).

Most days I’m just piecing myself together between nursing sessions, client calls, and school drop-offs.

And underneath it all, there’s a haunting question:

“Where did the old me go?”

The version of me who felt light, spontaneous, in control.

The version of me I thought I’d slip back into once I had my baby.

But she’s gone.

And in her place is someone I don’t fully recognize yet.

Someone I’m still learning to inhabit.

I call this: the invisible third shift of motherhood.

This is the identity crisis no one warns you about.

Why this shift is the hardest

We always talk about the first two shifts of motherhood.

The first shift: how work changes after a baby: the way you show up to your job with the same ambition, but less margin for error, less freedom, and more eyes silently questioning your capacity.

The second shift: how family changes after a baby: the way your evenings, weekends, and even your mental space are consumed by caring, planning, and showing up for everyone else before yourself.

But there’s a third shift almost no one talks about.

It’s lonelier. And it’s the hardest of all.

It’s the work of piecing together a new identity while still carrying the ghost of who we proudly once were.

You get stuck in a limbo - not the person you used to be, not yet the person you're becoming.

That in-between feels like a crisis. But really, it’s growth.

I had to name the ghost

Here’s the paradox of the ghost self:

You long for her, but you also know she’s not coming back.

When I finally admitted that my “old self” was gone, something shifted.

It wasn’t resignation. It was permission.

Permission to make space for someone new to emerge.

What helps me

Here's what I've learned:

#1 Call it what it is: Naming it an identity crisis isn’t dramatic. It’s liberating. I’m a new self, and I embrace it.

#2 Identify your ghost triggers: Maybe it’s at social events, slipping into old clothes, or watching others hit milestones you’ve paused. Name them and then choose one small way to respond with compassion instead of judgment.

For example, I noticed I felt a pang every time I opened my closet. So I bought two outfits that fit who I am right now and it lifted a weight I didn’t realize I was carrying.

#3 Redefine success for this season: Instead of asking, “How do I get back to who I was?” try: “Who do I want to become now?”

#4 Anchor in small wins: Write down one way you’re stronger today than you were before kids.

Not feeling like yourself after motherhood doesn’t mean you’re broken.

It means you’re in the middle of the invisible third shift.

The old you isn’t gone. She’s evolving.

And the woman you’re becoming? She’s more powerful than you can yet imagine.

This is why I built Career Mama. To create a supportive space for high-performing moms to rebuild themselves while moving up and being present with their kids. ❤️

📣 If you’re ready to get promoted, book an application call with me here.

Moms at Google, Salesforce, Uber, and more have:

  • Gotten promoted (and raises)

  • Received leadership recognition

  • Felt more connected to their kids

  • Gained peace of mind

Enrollment closes tomorrow and it won’t open until next Spring.

I’m excited to support you! Cheering you on ❤️
Shivani

P.S. “Since having my baby… I don’t feel quite on top of things.” That’s what a high-performer from Uber told me.

4 months later, she got promoted by using Career Mama’s coaching and tools.🚀

Don’t let another cycle pass you by. If your next review or promotion case is within 6 months, waiting costs more than starting now.

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