Why Are SAHMs Considered Unambitious When I Feel More Driven Than Ever?

One mother pushes back against stay at home mom stereotypes, proving she’s still accomplished, focused, and dreaming big while raising kids.

Source: Anna Shvets

I had dinner with a friend shortly after making the decision to step back from teaching. I’d been in classrooms for the better part of two decades, taking a year off here and there for childbirth and cross-country moves. A few of my colleagues did a great job juggling the teacher/parent tandem act, but somehow, the harder I tried, the more inadequate I felt in both arenas.

Most recently, after attempting a part-time teaching gig that wound up devouring my energies full time, I knew I was done. Midway through the main course, I shared the news, a mild flutter of excitement in my chest. “But what are you going to do with yourself?” was her first question. Mildly deflated, I said I wasn’t sure but was happy to take the time needed to find out. What has stayed with me since that evening was the statement she made in response: “I could never stop working. I think I’m way too ambitious.”

The comment stung, but for far too long, I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. After all, didn’t being home with my children for an indeterminate amount of time mean I fit the stay at home mom stereotype—that I lacked personal or professional goals? Hadn’t one of the things I was most looking forward to once I stopped working been–gasp–time to myself? Recently though, I’ve returned to this conversation and the stigma surrounding stay at home mothers, and I think the time is nigh for a reframing.

I was almost a year into being career-less before I realized the words ‘driven’ and ‘motivated’ still fit me—a woman at home—perfectly.

When someone calls themselves driven and motivated, what exactly do they mean? The most commonly accepted parameters are that they’re hard working, set rising goals, and envision a clear path for themselves to succeed. When women use these words, however, they tack onto it an invisible assumption that drive and motivation are solely a professional endeavor. I was almost a year into being career-less before I realized these words still fit me—a woman at home—perfectly.

Why Does Society Look Down On Stay-at-Home Moms?

There’s no point in blaming women. Society constantly stigmatizes stay at home motherhood, and pits motherhood and motivation as being at odds, perpetuated by whole centuries of gender stereotypes. What we’re meant to take away from it all is that drive and motivation equal our hopes for our career, period full stop. And that prioritizing anything else would be a giant step back into the dark ages. What’s the point of college degrees and vocational training if not to help prepare us for the real world? And what is the real world if not a high rise building with opportunities to rise through the ranks until you can snag a coveted desk with a view?

When I’d stopped teaching, it was with vague dreams of “maybe trying to write,” but a global pandemic interrupted any nascent goal-setting I may have envisioned for my first year at home. Instead I had two children on Zoom and an urgent obligation to use my qualifications to ease their learning-from-home experience. Weeks turned to months. Our preschooler began kindergarten online. Our seven-year-old discovered how to toggle between Youtube and Google classroom when no one was looking. Somehow an entire year passed before they blessedly returned to school in person.

Society constantly stigmatizes stay at home motherhood, and pits motherhood and motivation as being at odds…

As thrilled as I was to entrust them to their eminently capable teachers, I also found I missed my boys fiercely. Where at the start of the lockdown, we’d been antsy and snappish with one another, as time stretched and lost definition, within the walls of our home, we had begun to revel in our days.

Meals were long, leisurely affairs, no request too special to be met. (Hey, we had nowhere else to be!) Neighborhood walks sprawled and meandered, with repeated stops for leaf sketches and bug scavenging. Our erstwhile bedtime routine (quick shower + speedread of the picture book du jour, followed by hugs and lights out) evolved into an elaborate giggly sequence of bath bombs, round robin read alouds, and extended snuggle sessions. Despite our intense proximity and occasional frustrations, we had built something special together. Something aspirational.

Source: Ketut Subiyanto

All of it led me to wonder, as my children returned to “regular” life, what motivation or drive look like for a parent at home. I’m certainly not interested in being labeled a Supermom. I also don’t mean being aggressive or demanding on behalf of my children. It is not about the performance or glorification of parenthood; instead, it’s in the desire to create a balanced life.

As women, we buy into the myth that chasing our own aspirations means being apart from our children. But the truth is, the longer we spend caring for them, the fuller and softer our own aspirations become. To paraphrase the brilliant Angela Garbes, throwing ourselves wholeheartedly into the essential labor of parenting can become a form of self-help, sharpening our personal values and clarifying our pursuits.

That’s the thing about maternal ambition—it’s often quiet or invisible, like so much of primary caregiver life. It can’t be measured by quarterly performance reviews.

I am driven for every part of me now, for all the parts that could be or need to be filled. Some days, this can mean chaperoning a second grade field trip or working on a program for the PTA, but it can also mean volunteering for a cause I feel passionate about that has nothing to do with my family. Other times, between rounds of chauffeuring my kids while listening to them talk each other’s ears off, it can take the form of carving out space for professional endeavors. It can mean making time to learn a new skill I have put off for too long (currently, swimming and conversational Spanish).

And on the rare morning when I wake up with a brain that feels like it’s moving through sticky honey, it can mean I postpone my to-do lists and nudge my energies elsewhere. Because that’s the thing about maternal ambition–it’s often quiet or invisible, like so much of primary caregiver life can be. It can’t be measured by quarterly performance reviews. All that matters is knowing it’s there.

After my children returned to school post-pandemic, I made a slow transition to working as a freelance writer. Some months, I allow it to tug me along, juggling multiple assignment deadlines or trying out a new workshop idea. But there are fallow stages, too, when my pitch doc lies empty and I write almost nothing. I’ve come to recognize that whenever one aspect of my life appears to fall behind, another takes center stage. It’s a gift to be able to tune fully into whatever most calls for my attention.

… whenever one aspect of my life appears to fall behind, another takes center stage. It’s a gift to be able to tune fully into whatever most calls for my attention.

My older son just turned ten, and I am constantly reminded that my time co-habitating with our two children is finite. Evenings playing Ticket to Ride at the kitchen table won’t last forever. Nor will this current (admittedly rather dubious) stage of being addressed as “Bruh.” Rather than allow the media or society at large to guilt me into feeling lazy or under-accomplished, I relish that I have been given room to grow, to be creative, and to nurture my relationships with my children.

The ideals of motherhood can feel impossible. None of my choices are meant to downplay someone else’s. I’ve been in every phase—full time and part time work, both from home and outside of it. Whether you’re committed to a demanding career or trying to find an hour to dedicate to your personal goals each day, balance remains the most elusive target for every mother. Anything that helps us inch closer to it is probably the most ambitious thing we can work toward.