Feathers, Flaws, and Finding Myself: Why I Write
Does this matter?
I started this blog because I love writing, but sometimes I wonder if it matters.
If I should focus on something more practical, more profitable, more impressive.
And yet — I keep writing.
Maybe because this blog is one of the small ways I’m trying to find my way back to myself — a little color returning to the feathers.
I like reflecting. I love exploring. This blog seemed to be the perfect way to do all three at once.
Even more than that, I felt stuck and confused. I was a career lady turned stay-at-home mom turned working mom and the tornado of role shifts had me spinning. I thought I probably wasn't alone. I’ve written, reflected, and grown more than I expected. I loved sharing my life and lessons.
This blog sits at the intersection of motherhood, ambition, and adventure — especially the quiet kind that happens in everyday life. It captures this tension that I carry between wanting impact and wanting peace. It stills the cognitive dissonance between them.
Still, when it comes to impact, this blog doesn’t carry a measurable one.
I remember briefly considering monetizing it, looking at the viewership numbers, and realizing they simply weren’t there. Somewhere along the way I had absorbed the idea that something only has value if it is big or profitable.
That’s the comparison trap talking. I love this.
My life right now
I'm Sarah, mother of two sweet crazy little boys both of whom were born in Puerto Rico. The oldest is five and the youngest is almost three. My partner, Al, and I have resolved to stay even after facing some rather daunting obstacles, including job loss.
Here, in our sweet little home, in our charming old neighborhood, we are trying to build something meaningful and intentional for our boys.
So, I started a little blog about it, exploring the conflict with an adventure lens, recognizing that despite my love for my family, this beautiful island, and adventure, I am a little stretched and burnt out. I think most mothers feel this way, no matter their setting.
My life is filled with chickens and hand-me-down toys, home-grown fruit and muddy clothes, fast food dinners and meals made from scratch, soccer practice and beach days, teenage mutant ninja turtles and school conferences. It is a lot and I really do love each aspect.
That being said, sometimes in the list of to do's and obligations, I feel like I get lost.
Motherhood + Ambition tension
I remember growing up and being taught to "lose" yourself in serving others. While I understand the value behind that, I think there is value in taking care of yourself as well. I think that service should not just be an outward focus. That is, admittedly, a hard lesson for me to fully accept.
Becoming a mom changes almost everything -- or it did for me. It changed how I saw myself in the world, it changed my priorities, it changed my connection to my body. At first, this change felt like an identity crisis. I got lost in the differences, fearing the depth.
I Lost my Pink
I think for the first few years I lost myself.
Earlier I mentioned color returning to feathers. The metaphor that always comes to mind for me is flamingos. After becoming a mother, the flamingo turns white. Eventually they get their pink back.
For me, the pink was ambition. But my background also places a lot of nuance in female ambition, I had to balance and parse out expectations and my own understanding. I also just thought that I had to willingly give it up and just accept that I was now a white flamingo.
I also didn't realize that it took some work to get back to the rosy bird I once was.
Earning back my pink
Ambition didn’t disappear, but it did get prioritized lower. Motherhood deepens you — but it is also a tremendous amount of work. You are building a literal human from scratch. With your partner, you are constantly figuring out what matters most: how to help them sleep, learn, grow, and become themselves.
On top of that, you've got system obstacles in a society that wasn't built for ambitious mothers. You've got cultural narratives that bombard you with expectations. Maybe you, like me, have an obnoxiously loud inner critic that sneaks in when you finally find contentment whispering incessantly, "You aren't enough," over and over and over.
Guilt might sneak in when you, like me, finally decide to stick your head back in the water for shrimp -- trying to get some of that pink back. It's that combination of social narratives, structural barriers, and even your own inner critic, trying to keep you from taking those steps.
Sadly, they're really convincing.
...and nuanced.
A Flock of Pink and White
Don't even get me started with "Ms. MacKenzie" as she's affectionately known by my boys. She's my hero.
I'm so grateful for the mamas that have given grace and patience but more than that, support. We are all out here striving for something better and it feels better when you're not doing it alone, even if you think that "better" comes through a different path.
What this blog is actually about
If I'm honest, I started this blog as a way of bringing back some pink into my plumage. I just didn't realize how powerful an outlet it would be for me.
That is to say that there aren't disappointments. I don't necessarily have the tech savvy or even the energy to "make it big." I also haven't had the luck -- at least not yet.
All those mama's posting reels on Insta about how their "side hustle" turned into their "main income." ...well, that would be nice, but it isn't what this is about. Sometimes I forget that. I forget that something can be meaningful and powerful even if it isn't making an income.
I'm grateful for that reminder about what gives my life value.
This blog, for me, isn't about growing big.
It's about helping one mom feel less alone.
I don't need to change your life or mine; just remind us that joy is already here. It's about shifting from blame to understanding systems — and then finding adventure anyway.
It's about a journey back to ambition and through the cognitive dissonance, learning that ambition and contentment actually can coexist.
That's why I'm here. That is why I am writing. Maybe, just maybe, that is why you are reading, too.
My Why
Bite by bite, blog by blog, step by step, poco a poco, I am finding my pink. This blog isn't the only way I'm doing it, but it's one way to help guide me, and maybe you, back to pink.
I am writing so parents don't feel alone in wanting their pink back.
I am writing so that moms don't feel alone in battling society, scripts, and structural inequity just trying to find peace in loving motherhood and satisfying ambition.
I am writing because I want to be a testament that motherhood doesn't have to shrink, it stretches, deepens, and builds. Or, it can.
I am writing to hold space for ambition without guilt.
I am writing because there is beauty and adventure in ordinary days.
I am writing to remind you, but mostly me, that we are allowed to grow with all the time and pain that comes with it.
I am writing to hold space for me and for you, too.
So what am I writing about? Let me tell you. Here you'll find:
- Honest reflections on motherhood and ambition
- Practical parenting rooted in curiosity and courage
- Adventure without needing a passport
- Conversations about systemic barriers mothers face
- Permission to redefine success
While I'd love for there to be a type A, perfectly consistent list of expectations, that's not my season. I'm still finding my pink. You'll find new blog posts every month even if a bit inconsistently. I'm very excited to share.
Invitation
Wherever you are on your journey through parenthood, motherhood, or womanhood, you have space here. Even if you don’t have a big flock cheering you on, you’ve got me.
Maybe you’re messy, maybe you’re in the middle — that’s okay. You can want more without losing what you love. You are not alone.
This is a motivational speech that I am writing to myself — the me five years ago who felt lost, who struggled with expectations and systems, who wondered why she couldn’t just be happy with life as it is. I hope it’s a little something for you too.
Give yourself space and permission to exist in the way you want. Eat the shrimp you need to get your pink back.
Bite by bite, blog by blog, step by step, poco a poco, I am finding my pink.
Maybe you are too.
Your feathers can be bright again — and this is your permission to let them.
What is your shrimp? Working on a cool project? Hiking mountains with your littles? Presenting findings at conferences? Reading salaciously wonderful books? Creating masterpiece meals from scratch? Let me know in the comments! Let me cheer you on, too!
