Sometimes We Don’t Lose Our Strengths. We Lose Access to Them.
Sometimes we don’t lose our strengths. We lose access to them.
Positivity is one of my top five CliftonStrengths. For most of my life, it was easy for me to recognize. I could find possibility in a hard moment, create energy in a room and help people believe in what could come next.
During postpartum depression, I couldn’t access it.
The strength may still have been mine. But it didn’t feel available to me.
That distinction matters. We often speak about strengths as though they are permanent resources we can simply call upon whenever we need them. But our environments, health, relationships and seasons of life affect what we can reach.
Losing access to a strength is not the same as losing who you are.
After facilitating the first Motherhood in the Middle Circle, I felt something I hadn’t expected: more aligned, more attuned and more alive in my own strengths.
That wasn’t because I completed a self-improvement exercise. It came from being in relationship with four women who were also learning to recognize and own what was uniquely theirs.
The Circle began with individual strengths. But what emerged was something relational.
The women began borrowing strength from one another.
One offered language when another couldn’t find the words. One held belief when another was struggling to hold it for herself. One mother was learning that she could set her ambition down during an early newborn season without losing it forever. Another, further along in motherhood, began to wonder whether it was time to pick hers back up.
This is why we intentionally bring mothers from different stages together.
Our first Circle included women who were pregnant, postpartum, expecting another child and parenting beyond the earliest years. Their lives looked different. But each woman could see herself somewhere in another woman’s story.
One participant described the experience this way:
“There is something really powerful about being surrounded by ambitious women who are learning alongside you. This experience was empowering, enlightening, and helped me find clarity in what I want and where I am going as a woman navigating the relationship between motherhood and my career.”
There is no arrival point in motherhood.
There isn’t one stage where all the questions disappear and we finally know exactly who we are, what we want or how everything fits together.
There are only new seasons, and new invitations to come back to ourselves.
That is what I hope Momma Chill can offer: a place to breathe, feel witnessed, hear your own voice again and decide what you actually want next.
Not homework. Not optimization.
A room where you can set something down, pick something back up or simply stay with the uncertainty for a while.
Maybe the part of you that feels missing has not disappeared. Maybe she needs different conditions. More rest. More room. The reflection of another woman who can still see her.
No one can walk the path for you. But no one should have to walk it alone.