Introduction
I was anxiously waiting in a virtual lobby, deep, soothing breaths punctuating my carefully rehearsed lines. The camera flicked on—suddenly, the interviewer’s greeting launched our meeting into motion.
This was not my first interview, nor was it my first virtual one either. It took place during my second week of pantang (confinement), the centuries-old Malay postpartum ritual that expects a new mother to rest and recover.
When I became pregnant for the first time, I knew nothing could prepare me for the true realities of motherhood. Pregnancy books, Reddit forums, YouTube tutorials—I had consumed them all.
In spite of this, I still found myself unprepared. The many late nights, the gargantuan to-do list necessary to keep a little human alive and the constant negotiations with my husband about who does what—my introduction to motherhood was challenging to say the least.
At the same time, I was still trying to signal to myself (and admittedly those around me) that I was still me: still ambitious and capable of having it all. Agreeing to a promotion interview two weeks postpartum was not just a career move but also an attempt to regain some sense of self.
But now, 3.5 years into my motherhood journey, I am finding the very notion of “having it all” just as extreme as having to choose between raising a family and a thriving career.
Of #GirlBosses and #Tradwives
This desire to “have it all” is symptomatic of social media rendering everything, no matter the topic, as an over-the-top performance rather than an accurate depiction of reality.
In this attention economy, motherhood – and to a larger extent portrayals of the modern woman – is reduced to a mere label that never takes into account the messy nuances of actual lived experience.
Take, for example, the millennial concept of the “Girl Boss”. While the Girl Boss era is largely said to have seen its demise, there was a time many millennial women (myself included) sought to achieve this coveted status. It was an alluring ideal—who would not want to #slay in the corporate arena whilst building a seven-figure bank account and do so without relying on a man?
But while the Girl Boss’s selfies in Singapore Airlines first-class cabin are enviable, I cannot help but think of the hard reality of achieving this level of success and question the immense personal price tag that such a lifestyle affords.
On the flip side, the rise of the “tradwife” is said to be a direct counter to the “bossbabe” narrative. Where a bossbabe strives for the absolute pinnacle of her ambitions, a tradwife seemingly wants nothing more than to fulfil her husband’s wants and desires, take care of the home all whilst raising happy, healthy children.
Those that oppose this movement argue that it fetishizes a woman’s complete and total subservience to a man. However, a question then rises: If a woman, out of her own free will, willingly chooses to put her family’s needs above her own, why is this act deemed less empowering than if she were to pursue her ambitions outside the family home?
This again demonstrates how problematic such over-the-top social media performances of gender roles can be.
Personally for me, while I do think there could be no occupation more noble than taking care of my family, I do not believe it can only come at the expense of my personal goals and dreams outside of being a wife and mother.
I also feel that these largely Western ideas fall short within a Malaysian context, where family structures and domestic help are more common. While having such a robust support system in place certainly makes “having it all” more attainable, it does not make it any less challenging.
Motherhood IRL
The prevalence of such extreme narratives on social media and the wider media in general has also impacted the perception of modern motherhood.
While there are many who strive to share a more balanced and normalized perspective, the dominating narrative to any discourse around motherhood – and parenting more broadly – seems to be overwhelmingly negative.
Current conversations often highlight the more challenging aspects of motherhood. Oftentimes, modern motherhood is depicted as an exhausting, thankless job whereby the mother in question derives absolutely no joy and is just miserable.
While I do wonder if the current negative sentiment towards having kids is a direct result of the complex cultural climate we are living in, I cannot help but question my own role in perpetuating these negative stereotypes.
I think back to when I had just returned from maternity leave. I was chatting with a newly married colleague when she asked if she should have kids, to which I jokingly responded, “No, absolutely not”.
Having experienced motherhood for myself, however, I realized that the many challenges that come with raising a child is only half the picture. Though my household is a far cry from Maria Von Trapp and her kids, it is not all doom and gloom either.
Permission to Pivot
I did not get that job promotion. Although I was disappointed, there was a part of me that felt immense relief.
Perhaps it was because I had freed myself of the self-imposed expectation of having it all. But by not getting that promotion, it was as if I had given myself permission to take a back seat on my career and focus on raising my child instead.
I was content with this slower pace and finding a rhythm that worked for me. But it was in these quiet moments that I gained the mental space to reassess and through introspection, a new ambition had quietly taken hold.
Witnessing the startling speed with which my daughter changed from a cute, squishy blob to a sassy strong-spirited toddler, I gained a completely new appreciation of time and just how quickly things change.
This new perspective made me realize that although I still had ambitions to further my career, I simply did not want to miss out on my child growing up either. But this meant building something of my own, which was ironic seeing as how I had never harboured any entrepreneurial dreams before becoming a mother.
But it was not just the perceived flexibility that came with such endeavours, although that was certainly appealing. It was about creating something that could coexist and thrive with my newfound motherhood.
For the first time, I was not chasing some external definition of having it all. I was redefining what that actually meant for myself.
Balance: Making it Make Sense (for Me)
Living in Kuala Lumpur, I have the good fortune of having family support and the capacity to hire paid help. While I do not take these luxuries for granted, there is still somewhat of a balancing act that is required.
For me, this means navigating the ebb and flow of control, a response that is usually elicited by a well-meaning elder who insists on doing things their way. However, by the same token, being very conscious of not wanting to overburden my family, who are already giving so much of their time.
The other irony in all of this is that, even though having help relieves the physical load of childcare, it does not eliminate the emotional burden.
On days when I am cooped up in my study chasing a deadline and my daughter calls out from the other side wanting to play, the mom-guilt hits especially hard. I question whether in pursuing a future that will grow alongside my role as mother, I was missing out on the precious and fleeting moments of the present.
But it is in grappling with these internal battles that I realized that having it all was not about seeking more help as I hustled harder: It was becoming more about prioritizing what truly mattered. For me, what truly matters is setting a good example for my daughter and showing that you could have it all –just not all at once.
Final Thoughts
Three years from that interview, I am still learning to embrace motherhood in all its beautiful, messy glory. There are challenging days and there are days I feel so grateful to be the actual centre of my little person’s universe.
I used to think that having all the help and support meant I could push harder, do more, and be more. But what motherhood has so acutely crystallized is that the smaller wins each and every day count for something too.
But what is perhaps the greatest lesson I have learned since becoming a mother is that there really is no one-size-fits-all approach. Beyond the carefully curated extremes on social media, creating my own path forward is the most powerful example I can set for my daughter.
