Motherhood Is Leadership: What I’ve Learned by Living It

By Thea Brockmeyer

There’s something about spring that softens me. 

Maybe it’s the peonies blooming full and unbothered, or the hydrangea in the corner of the room—quietly reminding us: life keeps going.

Maybe it’s the way the light stretches further into the evening.
Maybe it’s the peonies blooming full and unbothered.
Maybe it’s just Mother’s Day—the quiet ache, the sudden pause, the memories.

Some years, it comes with roses.
Other years, it comes with silence.

But every year, it reminds me of something I think we don’t say enough:

Motherhood is leadership. Full stop.

Not always glamorous. Not always recognized.
But absolutely strategic, heart-led, and powerful.

I Didn’t Just Raise Kids. I Built a Life.

Let me be clear—my children have always been my value number one.
But right after that? My work. My clients. The mission I chose. The business I built. The people I served.The people who counted on me to show up, teach, lead, and deliver.

I wasn’t doing webinars. I was flying. City to city. Country to country. Checking into hotels, leading seminars, running full-day trainings with jet lag and a suitcase full of flip charts.

Sometimes, I got to take my kids with me. And I loved those times.

They saw me work. They saw me lead a room. They didn’t just hear me say “Mama’s working”—they lived it with me. And later, they weren’t just watching—they were assisting. They were proud. They still are.

But not every trip included them. Sometimes I had to leave them behind—and I missed them every single day.

I remember sitting alone in hotel rooms, holding the phone, hearing their voices— and wishing I could just reach through the line and hug them. There was no WhatsApp. No FaceTime. Just the sound of their voices and the ache of distance.

They missed me, too. And when something happened in the news, they were scared.

And yes, I felt guilty.

When I couldn’t be at their birthday.

When I missed the school play or the moment they sang on stage. Those moments stayed with me.

But I also knew this: I was showing them what it looked like to build something meaningful.
To stand in your purpose.
To lead with love and conviction—even when it was hard.

But I also felt proud.

Because I gave them something that still serves them today—
a picture of what it looks like when a mum or a. father leads with purpose.

They saw the hustle, but also the joy.
They saw the pressure, but also the impact.

More than anything, I wanted to show my children that it’s possible—
to build something meaningful,
to serve others through your work,
and still hold a strong bond as a family.

Even when I was far away—on a stage, in a seminar room, in a hotel room halfway across the world—
they felt me with them. And I felt them with me not just because of the teddybear on my pillow.

We were never disconnected.
Because connection doesn’t depend on location.
It lives in how we show up for each other.
In trust. In presence.
In love that travels beyond time zones and borders.

We built that bond together.
Everyone played a part.
And that, to me, is what real leadership is—
not just leading from the front,
but leading from the heart,
so that everyone in your life feels part of what you're building… even when you're apart.

It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t perfect.

But it was real.
And it was ours.

And looking back, I wouldn’t trade it.
Because I didn’t just raise kids—I built a life worth remembering.

I didn’t just raise kids.
I built a life—*with* them in it.

For the Women Who Feel That Quiet

Maybe you’re here now.
Your kids are grown. They’re off building their lives, as they should.
But still—it’s quiet. Sometimes too quiet.

Maybe they didn’t call this year. Maybe they forgot.
Maybe you got silence instead of roses.

And if that stings a little?
You’re not the only one.

This is for the women who gave without keeping score.
The mothers who held everything together—and now hold only the echo.
The leaders who showed up even when no one clapped.

You’re not invisible.
You’re not forgotten.
You’re not done.

The Legacy That Lives in the Small Moments

I used to think legacy was something loud.
A title. A building. A final achievement.

But now I know—
Legacy lives in tone.
It lives in memory.
It lives in what we passed on, not through words—but through being.

If I taught my children to be kind, to be brave, to build something meaningful—
Then I did something good.

And if you’re reading this thinking, “Did I do enough?”
I want to gently offer this:

They saw you.
They learned from you.
Even in the moments they didn’t say it—you mattered.

When the Season Changes

Here’s the truth no one talks about:
Leadership doesn’t end when your children grow up.
It just shifts direction.

Where do I lead myself next?

Because this next season? It’s yours.
You’ve spent decades leading others—your kids, your team, your clients.
Now it’s time to lead yourself with that same devotion.

What do you want now?
What do you need more of?
What are you done sacrificing?

Let’s Be Honest: This Is a New Kind of Mothering

This part of the journey?
It’s about learning how to mother yourself.
It’s about giving back to the woman who gave to everyone else.
It’s about dreaming again.
It’s about allowing joy—even without a reason.

And no, it’s not selfish. It’s sacred.

Maybe you feel like something’s missing. That’s okay.
It doesn’t mean something went wrong.
It just means you’re growing.

The nest may be quieter now, but your fire doesn’t have to burn out.
You are still needed. Just by someone new: you.

When Leadership Feels Fragile

I wasn’t even sure I’d write this.
I thought I should be more polished. Have something smart or strategic to say.
Maybe have my nails done, or at least sit at my desk looking put together.

But the truth is, this Mother’s Day hit me differently.

We hope for a card. A call. A hug. A sign that we’re still seen.

Not with flowers or sunshine—but with fragility. With full, quiet emotion.

Tomorrow I’ll drive to visit my father. He’s in the hospital now.
And while I’m grateful he’s still here… I’m scared. Scared of losing him.
Scared of time moving too fast. Scared of not getting one more hug.

And still—this year, through the ache, I remembered something powerful:
My mother is still here.

And instead of waiting to be celebrated… I asked myself, “What if I turn this day around?”

So I did something simple—but full of love.
I wrote my mother a thank you letter. I brought her beautiful pink roses.. I made her a care package with a luxurious facial set. We went out to lunch at one of her favourite places.

Later, we visited my father together.
And then—just the three of us—we had ice cream. My mom loves nut ice cream.

We laughed. We shared memories. I remembered her how she once made me the most beautiful butterfly birthday cake—and I can still see it to this day.

Instead of expecting to be celebrated, I chose to celebrate her.
And in that moment,

• I felt full again.
• Strong again.
• Happy again.

Sometimes leadership looks like spreadsheets and sales.
And sometimes?

It looks like love in motion.

Tools to Reconnect With What Matters

If this is hitting home for you—if you’re ready to get clear on who you are now, not who you used to be—I have two tools for you.

• The Values List Exercise
  Not fluff. This is a hands-on way to name what matters most to you now—in this season. Not what used to matter. Not what should matter. What actually lights you up.

Download the Values List Exercise

• The Wheel of Life Check-In
  This helps you reflect across the areas that shape your life—health, joy, finances, connection, purpose. It shows you where you’re thriving, where you’re drained, and where to refocus.

         Download the Wheel of Life Check-In

Let Me Say This Out Loud

If no one brought you flowers this year—buy them for yourself.
If your phone stayed quiet—your voice still matters.
If your heart feels heavy—know that thousands of other women are sitting with you in that same moment of breath.

You are not alone. And you are not done.
You are still writing your legacy. Every single day.

And if you feel ready—ready to lead again, this time from within—then this next chapter is yours.

Let’s make it beautiful.

With all my heart,
Thea