Dear My Babies: You Don’t Complete Me – You Expand Me
- Char Wong-Richardson
- Jul 8
- 4 min read
Read Time: 10 minutes
Dear L and M, my babies,
I never know how to say this in a way that won’t totally mess you up – but I don’t like being a mom. Not in the way society wants me to. I hate when I see posts like, “Becoming a mother gave my life purpose,” or “My kids complete me.” Honestly, it makes me want to puke. My whole body vibrates with rage when I hear that.
I know, that sounds messed up. But it’s my truth.
Birthing you two didn’t give my life purpose. It didn’t complete me. My life already had meaning. I was already whole before you two. But becoming your mama did something else: it sparked something I thought I had lost. It reminded me that love can be chosen – over and over again – without sacrificing who I am.
I won't be your everything, my loves. But I’ll be your mirror, your home, your hypewoman, and your safe place – because I’ve learned to be mine first. So you know you can be yours, too. And that’s what I truly want for you.
When I was pregnant with L, overwhelmed and terrified of doing it “wrong”. I was also terrified of actual child labour and thought I’d die because I had no clue what my pain tolerance was. Before even being pregnant or thinking much about kids, I said to your Dada once “If we had kids, they’d hate me because I have such unrealistically high expectations of people,” with which he responded, “Yep.” Great. That didn’t help. So getting pregnant with L, I’m worried crap, how do I not mess up my kid with my unrealistically high expectations???
Anyhow, I digress….so while I was pregnant with L, your Dada and I asked ourselves: If we could only wish one thing for our kids, what would it be?
I sat with that question for a long time.
My answer? Self-esteem. And as I grew – both belly and business – that answer evolved into something deeper: self-love. Not the spa-day kind (though that’s cute too), but the kind rooted in boundaries, compassion, and truth. The kind that anchors you when the world shakes you.
Now, in 2025, six years later, I stand by that. I want both of you to know what it feels like to be rooted in self-love. Because when you love yourself, you don’t settle. You don’t shrink. You show up in this world with kindness and clarity. You become someone who leaves people and places better than you found them – because you know your worth.
I’ve had to learn a lot about grief since becoming a mother. Grief for my pre-kid self.Grief for my partnership with your Dada, the way it was before you came.Grief for the woman I used to be – and the version of motherhood I thought I’d step into.
But in that grief, I also found clarity. I discovered what I wanted to model for you. What kind of woman I wanted to be. While you’re still young and I’m still building this dream rooted in empowerment, self-love, and healing – I hope you remember Mama as a kind, conscious, badass woman who loved you so deeply and made you feel safe to become whoever you want to be.
Even though I said you didn’t give me purpose – you amplified it. You made it louder, bolder, more tangible. You became the fire behind my “why.”
I don’t want to build a life that makes you follow a map you didn’t create. I want to lay down the stones so you can build your own path – anchored not in outdated expectations or toxic patterns, but in joy, intention, and alignment.
Being your mama has expanded me to be more. More mindful.More awake.More unapologetic in how I choose love, how I lead with heart, and how I heal – loudly, and publicly – so you see it’s possible.
I’m unlearning the idea that I have to be perfect to be loved. Unlearning that success looks a certain way. Unlearning that people-pleasing is safety.
And I’m doing all that out loud, so that you don’t have to carry the same weight.So you know that messy is normal.So you grow up seeing what it means to break cycles and build something better.
Life is complicated. Identity is complicated. Motherhood is complicated.
It’s not always beautiful. It’s often boring. It’s monotonous. It’s rarely glamorous. It’s loud and sticky and sometimes really freaking annoying – especially when you’re screaming in my face. BUT it can also be playful and fun. And we learn to embrace the complicated, the discomfort. And it can all still be filled with so much love.
This journey – of parenting, healing, becoming – it’s mine. And I honour it. I honour me. And I hope that teaches you to honour yours, too.
5 Things I Hope You Know About Life, Love, and your Mama
Self-love isn’t selfish – it’s your foundation. Loving yourself sets the tone for every relationship you’ll ever have. Start there. I will continue to show you.
You don’t have to be perfect to belong. You are worthy, exactly as you are. Your mess, your magic, your in-betweens – they all belong. I will always make space for you to belong.
Two things can be true at once. Life is full of contradictions. It can be hard and beautiful. Uncomfortable and joyful. Let it be. I will sit with you, hold your hand, give you a hug – whatever you need, through it all.
Redefine success on your own terms. You’re not here to fit into anyone’s box – not mine, not the culture’s, not even your own past ideas. Build a life that feels like freedom. I will do my very best to support and honour your journey.
Your mama is human. I’ll make mistakes. I’ll mess up. But I’ll never stop learning, growing, or loving you with my whole heart. And I’ll always model that healing is possible.
I hope I make you two proud.
But more importantly, I hope I show you that you can be proud of yourself.
From your imperfectly perfect and intentional, Mama.
💞Love Yourself First ~ Messy, Loud, and Free
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