Mother’s Day often celebrates success stories, the women who “made it,” the CXOs, founders, athletes, actors, and public figures whose achievements are visible, celebrated, and easy to name.
But beyond those visible milestones lies a quieter reality we rarely speak about: the mid-level corporate professionals who are just beginning to navigate two worlds for the first time, the world of motherhood and the world of work. In that delicate overlap, what often holds everything together are the invisible small unseen anchors, quietly keeping life aligned when everything else is shifting.
Becoming a mother is often described as a transformation, but for me, it felt more like a quiet collision between two versions of myself.
Before motherhood, life was fast, loud, and full. I was constantly moving, meeting people, chasing ideas, building stories. My ambition felt unfiltered, and my sense of purpose came from being in the middle of everything. Stillness was unfamiliar.
Initially, I thought pregnancy might slow that world down. The first trimester brought intense nausea, yet I continued working right up until the last week before delivery. Throughout, I was supported by a workplace culture that allowed flexibility, work-from-home options, and slower days when needed, making it possible to stay connected to work without stepping away from it.
Yet within me, there was a strange sense of FOMO, not of events, but of purpose. I kept going while quietly questioning how I would return, whether I would return the same, and what life might look like if I didn’t.
Then motherhood arrived. And it didn’t feel like a dramatic moment, it felt surreal. I knew I had become a mother, but I couldn’t fully say it out loud to myself. Instead, I felt an identity shift I couldn’t name. Some days, it felt like a possible post-partum emotional fog, repeating cycles of feeding, sleeping, cleaning, and starting again. The world I once thrived in felt far away.
There is something rarely said out loud, that motherly instinct doesn’t arrive instantly. It takes time to grow into, to feel real, to settle within you.
For many independent working women, this transition is even more layered. In the middle of continuing life and work as usual, there is a sudden awareness of two selves, the one who existed before, and the one still forming. And in that space, the quiet missing of the old self often lingers more than anyone admits.
As a new mother navigating sleepless nights and multiple night feeds, even that extra hour of rest quietly reshaped my entire day in ways only a mother truly understands
Slowly, support began to shape the new rhythm. My mother, my mother-in-law, and our nanny became my grounding system. I trained my nanny like an extension of myself almost like an “AI clone” for everyday mommy errands because I slowly realised the baby may not remember who fed or bathed her, but she will remember who held her with warmth, full presence, and no resentment. So I intentionally stepped away in small moments and short outings, helping them adapt while I learned to trust the process.
Eventually, I returned to work.
Coming back to foodpanda felt different this time. It wasn’t just a workplace, it felt like a system that had evolved to support this new version of me.
A daycare facility within the office premises became my biggest cushion during moments of uncertainty. A phone booth designed for private video calls meant I could see her between work moments.
As a new mother navigating sleepless nights and multiple night feeds, even that extra hour of rest quietly reshaped my entire day in ways only a mother truly understands. Flex timing became more important than ever, I could start my mornings slower, spend time with my baby, and step into work without guilt.
For the first time, I wasn’t splitting myself in conflict. And maybe that is the real invisible bridge between two identities, not choosing one over the other, but being held together by the small, often unseen systems, people, and moments that allow both to exist at the same time. A bridge that doesn’t erase the tension, but makes it possible to walk across it every day.
Now, I don’t come to work to prove I am still who I was. I come knowing I am stronger because I am someone new, a mother who still builds, still leads, still strives, but without losing herself in the process.
* Afifa Sultana is Lead, Public Relations, foodpanda Bangladesh