A story about motherhood, identity, and the bittersweet beauty of letting go

By Ana Cruz

I Knew This Day Would Come… But I Wasn’t Ready

Today, my youngest son, Zane, walked into his first day of preschool with a big smile on his face — and I walked out with tears in my eyes and a strange ache in my chest.

After four years of being his world — his comfort, his teacher, his dancing partner, his safe space — I suddenly found myself… alone. And as beautiful as this milestone is, I couldn’t help but feel like I lost a part of who I was the moment I let go of his tiny hand.

Four Years of Magic

Staying home with Zane wasn’t always part of the plan. When our first son, Caleb, was born, I wasn’t able to stay home, and that stills makes me feel guilty. But with Zane, especially due to some medical concerns, my husband and I decided I would leave my corporate job and build my business from home — at my pace, around my family.

And what a gift that decision turned out to be.

I got to witness it all:

His first steps
Hist first tiny teeth
Toys scattered everywhere
Morning dance parties to rock music (en español)
Helping me in the kitchen - and falling in love with fruits and veggies
Joining me at content shoots and learning to take photos
Walks to the pond in search of turtles, fish, red cardinals, and frogs
Long walks to the park for the playground, and going trough the neighborhood admiring the houses gardens on our way back
Shopping at the super market for tomatoes and fruits, smelling the flowers and graving a toy
Having lunch with Tita once in a while, enjoying pancakes and kisses and smiles

We created routines, rituals, and an unshakable bond. He knew when I had to work, and he adapted joyfully. He always came with me — cheerful, curious, and ready to help.

Those four years weren’t just about raising him… they were about becoming us.

But Then… Who Am I Without Him?

A couple of weeks ago, I started feeling strange. A quiet sadness that I couldn’t quite name. I’d find myself staring at nothing, wondering:
What now? What do I do with this time? Who am I… now that I’m not "Mommy" 24/7?

It hit me: I was going through an identity shift.

Turns out, this is more common than we think.
According to Psychology Today, many stay-at-home moms experience an identity crisis when their children start school.
A 2020 study by Pew Research Center found that 1 in 3 stay-at-home moms reported a loss of purpose once their children entered school full-time.

We pour our entire selves into raising these tiny humans. And then, when it’s time for them to take their first steps into the world — we’re left wondering where that leaves us.

Is This My Anxiety… or His?

I’ll be honest — at 10:00 a.m. on Zane’s first day, I called the school. I asked if I should pick him up early. "He’s never been in school before," I said, my voice shaking. The receptionist smiled and said:
"I just checked in on him — he’s happy and doing great. But if it makes you feel better, you’re welcome to come."

That moment made me pause.
Was this anxiety his… or mine?

Zane was ready. He was happy. And maybe, deep down, I was the one who needed more time.

A School Choice That Feels Right

We chose a Montessori school — one we already knew and loved. Our oldest son attended there for middle school, and the approach felt perfect for Zane too.

Research shows that children from emotionally stable, nurturing homes adapt more easily to change.
According to the American Psychological Association, kids who have strong emotional bonds and routines at home tend to handle transitions — like starting school — with greater resilience.

Zane had that foundation. He was ready to take this step.

I just wasn’t ready to take mine.

What the Science Says About Being a Present Mom

If you're wondering whether those years at home “really matter,” let me reassure you — they do.

✅ A Child Development study (2010) found that secure attachment in early childhood leads to stronger emotional regulation, confidence, and learning abilities later in life.
✅ The Harvard Center on the Developing Child reports that over 1 million new neural connections form every second during the first five years of life. Responsive, loving caregiving is essential to developing brain functions like empathy, communication, and critical thinking.

Being present during those years isn’t “giving something up” — it’s investing in something that lasts forever.

To the Moms (and Dads) in This Transition Too — You’re Not Alone

If you’re walking through this same bittersweet season, I see you.

Here are a few things that are helping me, and maybe they’ll help you too:

6 Gentle Reminders for This New Season

Feel it all. Let yourself cry, celebrate, and grieve. Your emotions are valid.
Reclaim your space. You’re still you. Rediscover your passions, your goals, your spark. In my case, I know I’ll find what to do for sure!
Create new routines. The time you spent together shifts, but doesn’t disappear. Find new ways to connect. I’m hoping I finally dedicate more time for me excersising.
Talk to others. Share your feelings with friends, moms, or mentors. You’re not alone.
Support your child emotionally. Help them talk about their day, and honor their feelings.
Get support if you need it. Therapy is a powerful tool during identity transitions — for you and for your child. Honestly, I haven’t done a good job here.

A New Chapter — For Both of Us

My house is quiet now. No toys scattered across the floor. No cartoons playing. No little feet running into the kitchen. Or me watching for my little human not to hurt himself around the house. I don’t hear the “mami…mami..mami” a million times, or kicking the restroom door for my to come out.

But I’m trying not to see it as something lost — rather, something beginning.

A new chapter for Zane… and a new chapter for me.

So tell me, mama — have you felt this too?

Let’s talk about it. Share your story in the comments, or send me a message. We’re not meant to do this part alone.

With love,

Ana Cruz

When My Son Started Preschool… and I Lost a Little Bit of Myself