When the hustle stops working
I've always been a "make it happen" woman—then I became a mom
I’m a “make it happen” kind of woman.
I wanted to graduate top of my class at Columbia. As an art history major, that meant reading PDFs of Ruskin and memorizing flashcards of Roman busts while waiting on subway platforms, in post office lines, in doctor’s offices, and over pretty much every meal. I made it happen. Cum laude, baby!
In my 20s, I wanted to do something epic. Not just a little trip, but a reinvention. A cross-country trip for a whole year. I ate peanut butter for dinner, squirreled away birthday money, and worked extra gigs. I mapped out logistics, booked campsites, packed my gear, and made it happen.
When I got pregnant with my first daughter, I wanted to give my entrepreneurial dreams a shot. I spent $10,000 on a course that promised to turn my branding skills into a real business. The investment scared me so bad, I worked like a maniac and earned $42,000 in four months. I made it happen.
To this day I get high on doing hard things. I like the grit. But “making it happen” used to mean gripping everything with an exhausting intensity. In my 20s, it was doable. I had the desire, the discipline, and total control over my schedule.
And then I became a mom.
Suddenly, all my strategies for milking achievements out of the day stopped working.
That web project I wanted to wrap? Thwarted when the baby decided twenty minute naps would be good enough that week. The afternoon I was planning to spend with a book? The baby had a blowout on the mattress protector after the laundry machine broke. That jewelry I wanted to make? Please. Deep focus was off the menu.
It just wasn’t possible to apply myself to creative projects and work the same way I had before kids. The “push through” approach was no longer available. I was too human. At first that made me angry, but then the anger sapped my energy even more than the limitations. First, I had to accept my new reality. Then I could find a way through.
“It just wasn’t possible to apply myself to creative projects and work the same way I had before kids. The “push through” approach was no longer available. I was too human.”
I started hunting the tiny windows of time that still existed in my days, literal minutes between buttoning tiny sweaters and stirring the onions for dinner. And instead of dismissing those moments as not enough, I decided to use them.
I let go of the expectation that I needed three uninterrupted hours to write, or a quiet house to be creative. I started sewing this kimono quilt jacket, ten stitches at a time, by hand, sitting on the floor while my daughter played. I started treating food like art, looking for opportunities to make meals that actually delighted me, and making them beautiful. I started believing that small acts of art mattered, and they did.
Small act by small act, I got my verve back.
When I had something fun and creative and beautiful to look forward to, the chores were less annoying. When I made space for the things that mattered to me, I scrutinized my husband less. It was so much easier to be patient with my daughters when I started feeling like myself again.
Making room for creativity wasn’t just about squeezing productivity into motherhood or giving up my ambitions. It was about shifting how I thought about “making it happen” at all. It didn’t have to be some manic push. It could be small and sustainable, and it could even feel good—in fact, it had to.
Otherwise it was just another chore, and moms don’t need any more chores.
“Making room for creativity wasn’t just about squeezing productivity into motherhood or giving up my ambitions. It was about shifting how I thought about ‘making it happen’ at all.”
Truly, I don’t know a single mom who isn’t overburdened by work, laundry, and a million demands on her time and body. We’re all out here trying to just keep up. Of course we lose track of the free, creative women we used to be. Of course we miss that part of ourselves.
So, what to do? There are endless resources out there to help people reconnect with creativity: podcasts, books, blogs, workshops, courses, cohorts. But how many of them are designed for the real lives of modern moms?
When my second daughter was about a year old, a writing program I’d saved in my bookmarks for literal years announced its final cohort—half off. I worried about taking on more, but I couldn’t pass it up. I was desperate for creative refueling. My husband took over bedtimes, I shuffled my work schedule, and we made it happen.
I was so proud of the effort. That old “make it happen” attitude really did come in handy. It also came at a cost. After six weeks, we were wrecked, and so was the house. And honestly, I wished I could have been more present for the program. Juggling life and kids with something that intense was a compromise all around.
It’s not anyone’s fault, but most resources for growth and creativity and entrepreneurship just aren’t made for mothers. And that’s also not a knock on folks without kids. But the instant you have them, I’m convinced you become another species. Life is just different over here. And still, the urge to grow and express and make things never goes away.
As someone who loves to keep learning and growing, and who’s benefited a lot from online education and coaching, I wanted to design something that would actually fit the life of a mom. Something that doesn’t require a flight to Bali—or even a babysitter.
That’s why I’m hosting the first Made of More Summer Camp. It’s for the “make it happen” woman who has come up against the very real limitations of motherhood. She’s frustrated that she can’t make it happen in the way she used to. She’s annoyed with being annoyed all the time. She’s desperate to reconnect with herself and her creativity, but she needs a new path, because the old one isn’t working.
If that’s you, come check out Summer Camp.
You don’t need to find more time. In fact, I’m sure you don’t have time for one more thing right now! But you do need someone to see you. You do need practical ways to navigate the very real constraints of your life. You deserve to feel lit up again.
Summer Camp is all virtual and designed for intensely busy moms. You get short audio experiences weekly to take in the car or on a walk. Bi-weekly calls for coaching and community where you can bring your kids, bring your dinner, or call in while you do the dishes. You’ll also get voice-note support through Voxer throughout the week, a steady drip of encouragement from someone who’s in it with you. The vibe is very much come as you are, leave expanded.
This is about the little shifts, small acts of art, and practical perspectives that open your life back up.
I’m here to help you make it happen, a little differently this time.
P.S. ChatGPT helped me outline and edit this piece. At first I asked it to do some drafting, and that felt weird and bad. I’m still figuring out how I want to use AI in a way that feels authentic and also helps me save time. AI is cool and I’m not against it, but I’m here to connect with you as Zoe, the human being. I’ll continue to be transparent about my use of AI tools.