Beyond motherhood, marriage, and the myth of self-sacrifice

Why wholeness is the leadership strategy too many women overlook

Years ago, I stood waving as my children boarded a bus for their first camp in Durban. They were excited, chatting with friends, and didn’t even look back.

That moment reminded me of a lesson many women discover too late: you’d better have a life of your own.

Motherhood is sacred, but it was never meant to be your sole identity. Yet across cultures, especially in Africa, women are taught that being a “good mother” or “good wife” means total sacrifice. To erase yourself to prove love. And then, one day, when the children leave or the marriage changes, you’re left asking, “Who am I now?”

Designing a life around, not inside, your children’s lives

When my children were both in boarding school in the UK, my son in Oxford and my daughter near Canterbury, I decided to make every visit purposeful. During that season, I also enrolled in short executive programmes at Saïd Business School, Oxford, and Cambridge Judge Business School. I planned each trip to include focused time with each child, walking, talking, sharing meals, and, separately, a few days for my own learning.

Those trips became some of the most enriching chapters of my life. I deepened my knowledge, earned certifications, and showed my children, by example, that personal growth never ends.

They saw me devoting time to them while pursuing my goals.

They saw that I was available but not idle. Present, but not lost.

That’s leadership by design, not by guilt.

This approach may look different for every family, but the principle remains: parenting champions doesn’t require abandoning yourself, especially if it leads to guilt-tripping your children later for sacrifices you chose to make.

Mother’s guilt is real, but it’s not a strategy

A mother recently messaged me:

“I’ve been working hard to remember myself again these last six months. Motherhood is rewarding but tough. Your post reminded me to stay on track.”

I understand that deeply. There were seasons I intentionally paused external commitments, deliberately designing school holidays in July, August, and December as sacred family time. But when the term resumed, I returned to purpose.

When my children were in primary school in South Africa, I often felt that quiet tug-of-war between devotion and depletion. At St Stithians, I’d see mothers who spent entire days at the school, dropping the kids off, waiting at the café, and attending every game. They seemed made for motherhood.

I wasn’t sure I was. I loved my children deeply, but I also knew I couldn’t build a life orbiting theirs.

There were days I was so exhausted I hid in the bathroom just to catch a breath. Sometimes I extended business trips by a few days to exhale, guilt-free, letting their father or grandparents step in. Those moments taught me something invaluable: you don’t have to do everything to be enough.

Balance isn’t about doing it all; it’s about doing what matters most in each season. But too often, women slip from “I chose to pause” into “I forgot who I am.”

Mother’s guilt can quietly undermine your impact. It whispers that ambition makes you selfish, that rest makes you careless, and that wanting more makes you less maternal. That lie has crippled too many brilliant women and, by extension, their families.

The suffering Olympics

My first daughter recently said in a video on Instagram:

“No woman ever got an award for suffering unduly. Yet some act like there’s a competition for who sacrificed the most.”

That line made me smile and attracted a lot of interesting commentary from African women across the world.

It’s not just about motherhood; it’s a mindset. A generation of women learnt to prove worth through endurance, not excellence, and to earn validation through suffering, not significance. But guilt-driven living isn’t sustainable leadership. If you shrink your life entirely into parenting or marriage, you may raise children who succeed materially but carry the invisible weight of your unfulfilled dreams.

Parenting as leadership: Strong roots, strong branches

My real conversation here isn’t just about motherhood; it’s about leadership. As mothers, we are the first leaders our children know. And true leadership isn’t about control; it’s about cultivation.

When your roots are strong, your branches thrive. Your children become more confident when you are. More discerning than you are.

They mirror your peace, your power, and your perspective.

Hovering over your children doesn’t make you loving; it just makes them dependent. Modelling purpose, growth, and joy shows them what living fully looks like.

Love isn’t meant to consume you

During a recent conversation with my daughter, we laughed when she said,

“Mum, I enjoy seeing you model the same principles I now live by.”

We discussed how easy it is for women, especially mothers, to lose themselves in the roles they play. Too many women act as if the best things they have going for them are their husbands or their children. And that kind of attachment, however well-intentioned, can quietly turn into desperation.

If your husband is the best thing in your life, maybe you need to get a life.

If your children are the centre of your world, it may be time to re-centre yourself.

This isn’t neglect; it’s balance. Loving from wholeness means nurturing from abundance, not depletion or desperation. It’s about creating an ecosystem where everyone thrives, not revolving your life around others until you disappear. Because when your identity depends entirely on being needed, your peace collapses the moment they no longer do.

For those who don’t have the choice

Of course, not every woman has this flexibility. Those raising children with special needs or doing it all alone often don’t get the luxury of “finding themselves”. They deserve support, not judgement. That’s why families, and especially fathers, must step up. The African family model still behaves as though mothers are the only parents in the room. That must change. A society that sidelines its mothers cannot raise whole children.

The bigger lesson: Wholeness is strategy

This is not a parenting column. It’s a leadership one. Because how we parent mirrors how we live, lead, and love.

You can’t pour from an empty self.

You can’t model courage if you’ve never taken a risk.

You can’t raise bold children if you live small.

So yes, motherhood is sacred. But so are you. And your wholeness, your self-awareness, your joy, your growth, is not indulgence. It’s a strategy.

Because at the end of the day, when women lead whole lives, everyone wins.

Udo Maryanne Okonjo: Chairwoman, Fine & Country West Africa | Founder, Radiant Collective Capital. Women, Wealth & Power — Challenging Norms. Creating Wealth. Changing Futures.