I Didn’t Lose My Style. I Lost Touch With Myself

During my years as a full-time stay-at-home mom, I struggled with how to dress.

I couldn't seem to find a style that truly suited me. Or maybe the truth was that I no longer knew what suited me.

One thing I knew for sure was that high heels wouldn't be part of my wardrobe for many years to come. My lifestyle simply didn't allow for them.

When it came to shoes, I knew exactly what I needed: flats, sneakers, flip-flops, and socks. Lots of socks. I spent most of my days at home, and socks were often the most practical footwear choice.

I loved wearing wide-leg pants because they were comfortable and practical, although I never really found them particularly sexy. I preferred dresses, but after having children and dealing with a postpartum belly, I often chose loose, oversized dresses instead.

They were comfortable, practical, and allowed me to move around easily.

But they didn't always make me feel beautiful.

I also loved T-shirts. Oversized T-shirts, especially. I wore them just like my teenage daughters did, and honestly, I think I will always love them. Even now, as my postpartum belly slowly shrinks, I still find myself reaching for a comfortable T-shirt.

I have also always loved knee-length dresses. They feel feminine without being impractical, and they are comfortable enough for everyday life.

The truth is, when you are a stay-at-home mom, your lifestyle can greatly influence the way you dress.

When your days are mostly spent at home, running errands, taking care of children, attending school activities, and managing the endless responsibilities of family life, you may not have many reasons to dress up. Your wardrobe becomes based on what you need.

And for a long time, that was exactly how I shopped.

I bought what I needed and stayed away from what I wanted.

I didn't buy lipstick because I rarely wore it. I didn't buy much makeup because I didn't have many occasions to use it. I didn't buy high heels because I spent most of my time chasing children or walking around in shoes that allowed me to keep up with them.

And cute little clutches?

They were beautiful, but they weren't practical for my life.

I needed a big bag.

A bag big enough for diapers, snacks, wipes, extra clothes, and sometimes even a change of clothes because, as any mother knows, you never really know what might happen when you leave the house with children.

So, I learned to prioritize practicality.

I kept a few special pieces in my wardrobe for the rare occasions when I had somewhere to go—family Christmas parties, Thanksgiving gatherings, or other special events. But for the most part, I bought things when I needed them.

And, surprisingly, that became one of the positive things I took away from that season of my life.

I slowly grew out of my habit of buying and keeping too many clothes.

That change also influenced the way I approached shopping for my children. My kids get new clothes and other wardrobe necessities when they need them. I don't feel the need to buy every cute dress or T-shirt I come across simply because I think they would look adorable wearing it. Because there will always be another cute outfit. There will always be another adorable dress, another beautiful shirt, another pair of shoes I think my children would look perfect in. I learned that I didn't have to buy everything.

But there was another side of this journey that I rarely talked about.

When your life revolves around caring for everyone else, it is easy for your own identity to slowly fade into the background.

For years, I couldn't figure out how to dress because I no longer knew who I was dressing for.

I became so focused on being a mother that I stopped nurturing the woman behind the title.

I focused on practicality and comfort, prioritizing what could last through a day with children over what made me feel beautiful or reflected my personality.

Every outfit I put on felt like nothing more than fabric. I wasn't expecting compliments, not even from my husband. And whenever I did receive one, I could never simply say, “Thank you.”

Instead, I would immediately begin explaining myself.

"Really? You think so? I wasn't sure about this outfit. I almost changed three times before leaving the house. I don't even know if this is really my style..."

Looking back, I realize that my problem was never really that I didn't know how to dress.

I had simply lost touch with the woman I was dressing.

For so many years, I had been a mother first. I had learned how to dress for school runs, grocery shopping, playgrounds, errands, messy meals, unexpected accidents, and everything else that came with raising children. But somewhere along the way, I stopped asking myself a simple question:

What do I enjoy?

It’s not about practicality, my kids' needs, or making my day easier. I’m still figuring that out.

As my body, life, and kids change, I realize finding my style is about reconnecting with who I am.