Society Didn’t Break Me - Motherhood Remade Me

The Woman I Was

I was raised to believe that if you worked hard, stayed focused, and pushed through, anything was possible. And honestly? For most of my life, that approach worked.

By eight years old I’d decided I was going to be an engineer — and I never once questioned it. My twenties were spent in the thick of military life, training as a Nuclear Engineer, doing work that demanded precision, resilience and unwavering commitment. I thrived on it.

I loved the intensity.
I loved the structure.
I loved knowing exactly where my life was heading.

It felt like the perfect path — the one that would set me up to have the family I’d always imagined.

When I met my husband, we were following the same ambition, the same rhythm. We understood each other in a way only two people in that world can. And when we realised we’d need IVF to start our family, we did what we’d always done: faced it head-on. Our first round worked, and despite the emotional turbulence beneath the surface, we kept moving forward.

But when I was 39 weeks pregnant, everything changed at once.
We moved 500 miles away.
My son was born.
My husband deployed.

And there I was — in a new place, with no support network, trying to keep myself together while everything familiar fell away.

The Unravelling - and the Awakening

Motherhood didn’t just stretch me; it reshaped me.

In those early months, surrounded by new mums who got it, I felt connection in a way I never had before. Those friendships were lifelines - they showed me the power of being seen, understood, and supported.

When I returned to work, I thought I could simply apply the same formula that had always worked: push harder, stay committed, be excellent. But motherhood and the regulated nuclear world were not compatible in the way I had imagined.

No matter how hard I worked, some doors simply wouldn’t open. My second pregnancy arrived in the middle of this strain, and for the first time, I felt myself genuinely pulled apart by two identities:

the woman who had built her career with grit and intention
and
the mother whose priorities - and sense of self - had completely shifted.

My identity didn’t just wobble.
It fractured.
It asked to be rebuilt.

And in that space - that uncomfortable, honest space - I realised something profound:

My passion wasn’t disappearing.
It was evolving.

I had been coaching, guiding and supporting trainees for over 15 years. The work that lit me up wasn’t behind the reactor doors - it was in helping people grow, find clarity, build confidence, and navigate tough transitions.

My dreams weren’t dying.
They were asking for a new direction.

The Woman I Am Now

Motherhood cracked me open. It forced me to confront the myth that “having it all” is simply a matter of trying harder. It showed me what happens when your identity slips through your fingers while you’re busy holding everyone else together.

I grieved the career I’d built.
I grieved the version of me I had always imagined I’d become.
And I grieved the belief that I could outwork every obstacle.

But in that grief, something new was born:
Clarity.
Purpose.
A deep desire to help other mothers understand themselves again.

I created She Navigates because no woman should feel lost inside her own life.
You deserve to feel grounded, confident, and connected to who you are - not just who you are to everyone else.

You can be ambitious and loving.
You can evolve and still be present.
You can want more without guilt.
You can be a brilliant mother and a brilliant woman.

It took me years to rebuild myself.
You don’t need to do it alone.

I’m here to help you find you - the woman underneath the roles, the noise, the expectations, and the pressure to hold everything together.

If this resonates, I’d love to speak with you and explore how your next chapter can feel more aligned, more grounded, and more you.

"Motherhood offers the incredible opportunity to discover a new version of yourself, filled with strength, love, and purpose."

© 2025 Amanda Carmichael. She Navigates. United Kingdon. All rights reserved.