Why I Quit My Corporate Job After Becoming a Mom

This blog post is not about the right or wrong career choice as a mom. It’s a reflection on my own experience — and what ultimately felt like the right fit for me.

Why I Quit My Corporate Job After Becoming a Mom

For me, going back to my corporate job after mat leave started to feel like putting on an old t-shirt that didn’t fit anymore. You know the one — it used to be your go-to, perfectly broken in and comfortable. Then one day you slip it on and realize it’s shrunk, or there’s a hole you somehow missed. It’s familiar, but it no longer works the way it once did.

The first couple of months back at work for me went well. I was excited to regain a sense of independence, if I’m being honest. I loved being home with my son, but by the end of that first year, I felt he needed more time with other kids — and I needed more time with other adults. I was right. He has loved daycare, and watching him make his first friends has been incredibly special. Having more adult conversation and focusing on projects outside of motherhood genuinely helped my mental health at first. I felt like I had found a better balance — time for myself alongside being present with my son.

But within a few months, the workload at my job started to increase, while my son was making huge developmental leaps between twelve months and now, almost two. His energy seemed to triple (which is amazing), but I began to feel the strain of being needed in too many places without enough energy to show up fully everywhere.

Some days, it was hard not to feel distracted — like my mind was always split. The demands of my husband and I both working two full-time jobs with a toddler also began to create tension. We fell into this quiet game of whose turn it was to call in, who could afford to “upset” their boss, every time our son got sick or had an appointment. And if you’ve lived the daycare life, you know how quickly sick days, appointment days — and for us, home daycare closure days — start to add up.

My work also asked me to take on a later shift two days a week. That meant my husband needed to leave early to handle pick-ups, which became difficult because he’s paid hourly and often needs to work late as well. What felt like small adjustments on paper became costly in real life. I found myself in a constant state of catch-up at work, which was exhausting. Every time I missed a day, I was cramming two days’ worth of work into one. The pressure built quietly but steadily until the mental load became heavy.

Everywhere I looked at home, I saw mess. I had about an hour after bedtime and maybe four uninterrupted hours over the weekend to get things done. I chose not to do household tasks while my son was awake because our time together already felt limited. So instead, we lived out of laundry piles in the spare bedroom.

I was tired — not just physically, but mentally. Weeks were so jam-packed that time started to blur. I’d look up and realize another couple months had passed again.

That’s when one day, I stopped and asked myself: Is this still what I want? I no longer felt a burning desire to climb the corporate ladder. And truthfully, when I returned from mat leave, my role had shifted to lower-level but higher pace operational tasks compared to what I’d been doing before. Like many moments in my motherhood journey, I had to accept that something in me had shifted.

When I thought honestly about the work I wanted to do, the answer was simple: I wanted to slow down and re-align. Slowing down didn’t mean I wanted to stop working. It meant I wanted my work to feel intentional. I wanted to give my energy to fewer things and show up more fully in the things I chose to give my time to. I wanted work that felt connected, and flexible enough to bend with the chapter of life I’m in — not something I had to contort myself to fit into.

This shift reminded me of a conversation I had with my therapist a few months ago. I told her, “I just can’t seem to give 100% of myself to everything these days. I haven’t found a way to show up 100% as a mom, 100% as a wife, employee or friend” to which she replied, “and you won’t— because that assumes you can give 100% of yourself to each bucket at the same time when you only have 100% of yourself in total to give.” 

She was right. That conversation gave me permission to stop chasing a version of balance that doesn’t exist — and to stop blaming myself for failing to achieve it.

For most of my life, I had been given a script that told me status mattered. That corporate a was stable, smart, and safe way to achieve it. I was taught to chase high pay over high energy at home. Eventually, I realized this model no longer fit me — and that many of those goals weren’t actually mine or truthful.

Letting go of this corporate path meant moving past the idea that I had failed. It meant rewriting the script I’d been handed and choosing words that aligned with my own values. I think this kind of reckoning is also part of nearing the end of my twenties — realizing how much of my life was built around someone else’s encouragement. In my early twenties, I needed that guidance. Now, I don’t.

I’m sharing this because I know how isolating it can feel to quietly question a path you once worked so hard for. Especially in motherhood, when everyone seems to be doing something different, it’s easy to feel like you’re the only one wondering if things still fit. For me, I found myself comparing what I should be able to take on to what other moms were able to take on. The reality is that everyone has different variables and motivations that make their situations work. There is no fair comparison.

Quitting my corporate job wasn’t about choosing motherhood over ambition. It was about redefining what ambition looks like in this chapter of my life in a way that fits for me and my family.

I deeply respect moms who thrive in corporate roles and feel energized by that structure. For me, corporate didn't fit the way it used to - and that's okay. This decision wasn’t made from burnout or bitterness either. It came from clarity — from listening to myself long enough to realize my goals had changed, and allowing that change to be valid. I’m grateful for what corporate work gave me, and maybe it isn’t goodbye forever. But it is goodbye for now. And for the first time in a long time, that choice feels aligned.

This shift wasn’t easy in any sense. It required deep self-reflection and the courage to move toward something unfamiliar. For a long time, my corporate role felt permanent — tied closely to who I was. Letting go of a comfortable version of myself was hard. As a parent, it felt even harder to risk trying something different job wise.

I think I was confused between being stuck and being frozen. When you are stuck, there’s nothing you can do to get out of your situation. When you are frozen, you can thaw out, and when you thaw out you’re free to make whatever moves you want.

This next chapter isn’t about chasing something random or uncertain. It’s about finally giving myself permission to explore work I’ve quietly felt drawn to for a long time, and to slow down in a chapter of my life that feels heavy.

There is fear in that, of course. But there’s also hope — especially the hope that I can lead by example for my son. I want him to know that it’s okay to want change, that very few things in life are truly permanent, and that you’re allowed to choose a different path when the one you’re on no longer fits.

As my therapist once reminded me, new paths always feel unfamiliar at first. The ground isn’t smooth yet. But over time, you clear what’s in the way, the road smooths, and one day you look around and realize you’re no longer lost — you’re home.