Motherhood, Rewritten: 5 Women, 5 Definitions

Every woman has heard it at least once.

“A good mother would…”

It’s the society that fills in the blanks for us – Stay. Sacrifice. Endure. Put yourself last. Don’t complain. Don’t choose differently.

And despite all our claims of being modern and progressive, women are still judged relentlessly through the lens of motherhood. Working mothers are shamed for “choosing money over children.” Women without children are told they are incomplete. Adoptive mothers are asked whether they can ever love a child “like their own.” Mothers who struggle are told to be grateful. Mothers who choose differently are made to carry guilt.

So this Mother’s Day, I decided to write about five incredible women in my life – women who quietly challenge the narrow definitions we have boxed motherhood into.

Their stories are unconventional, but there is also something deeply familiar: love, care, sacrifice, resilience, and courage. Maybe we should not try to define what it means to be a mother because Motherhood is different, for every mother.

1. Viji: Motherhood expressed through absence

Viji is in her late twenties. Young enough to love dressing up and making reels with friends. She doesn’t look like a ‘suffering mother,’ but every decision she makes revolves around one person: her eight-year-old daughter. She was born with a congenital kidney condition requiring constant, expensive care. And so Viji did something many people judged her for: she left home to work in another city as a caregiver. Back home, her daughter is cared for by her husband and in-laws.

Motherhood measured through distance is a cruel thing. She misses birthdays and the small milestones we often take for granted. People say things casually: “What kind of mother leaves her child for money?” without understanding what survival costs.

Today, Viji takes care of my bedridden 81-year-old mother, to finance the medical expenses of her sick child. The tenderness with which she adjusts a pillow, feeds her patiently, scolds her gently when she refuses food… doesn’t feel like duty. It feels deeply personal – as though all the love she cannot pour onto her own child right now spills over here instead.

 Sometimes, motherhood is about leaving – because staying would mean failing the very child you are trying to protect.

2. Lekshmi: Motherhood on her own terms

“A woman is incomplete without children.” I doubt if anyone has told this to her face; but Lekshmi has stopped reacting.

Married for over fourteen years, she and her husband did consider having children once. Briefly. Thoughtfully. And then they decided to go childfree. Not because they disliked them, but because they understood that parenthood deserved certainty, not social pressure.

Today, her world revolves around two very opinionated “fur babies”— one cat who behaves like royalty and one indie rescue dog convinced personal space is a myth. Their schedules dictate her life. She worries about their health, talks to them endlessly, and structures her days around their care.

Honestly? It looks suspiciously like parenting.

But what strikes me most is how deeply she nurtures the people around her – her nephews and nieces;  and her own mother. Their relationship has evolved over the years into something layered – part daughter, part emotional support system, part caregiver.

Some women mother through presence and love quietly given every single day. Completeness looks different for every woman.

3. Madhuri: Motherhood beyond biology

Some people are called “Maa” because of how they make others feel. That is Madhuri Maa.

A proud member of the Kinnar community, she belongs to a section of society long misunderstood. I first met her years ago when she performed at my daughter’s dance academy. She was radiant – graceful and expressive.

I was hesitant to speak at first, afraid of saying the wrong thing. But the moment we talked, the awkwardness disappeared. She was warm, funny, and instantly easy to love. Today, Madhuri Maa works extensively with marginalized individuals, abandoned children, and the elderly people society pushes to the edges.

But what stays with me most is her heart. Years ago, after I had cooked some food for a new mother – a mutual friend. Madhuri Maa lovingly blessed me with a one-rupee coin from her hand. “Keep this safely,” she told me. “I don’t give these blessings to everyone.”

I still remember the tears in my eyes that day. Biology alone could never define a heart like hers.

4. Ananya : Motherhood that was chosen

“It’s not the same as having your own child.” People say this to adoptive parents without realizing how cruel it is.

Ananya and her husband spent nearly two decades trying to have a child. Endless consultations, treatments, and heartbreak. At one point, IVF worked, but the pregnancy became life-threatening. She lost the baby and her health for a time. Yet, their attitude was one of quiet resilience: “Okay… what next?”

Eventually, they realized parenthood did not have to arrive through childbirth. They chose adoption. After years of paperwork and waiting, they met their daughter, who was two at the time.

Today, she is almost ten. Loud, playful, smart yet stubborn as kids can be. The most beautiful part? She has always known she is adopted. She eagerly listens to stories about how they first met her. She proudly tells her friends how her parents “chose” her, and she is growing up knowing she is special. Maybe that is what love does.

*name changed for privacy reasons.

5. Nandini: Motherhood on pause, not denied

At thirty-eight, Nandini knows how loudly society reminds women about time. After multiple failed fertility treatments, her marriage entered uncertain territory. She found herself facing a choice: Should motherhood depend entirely on whether a relationship survives?

She chose to freeze her eggs. Not because she had given up, but because she refused to let fear make her decisions.

She wasn’t just preserving cells; she was reclaiming time and possibility.

In the meantime, she runs her catering business and mothers her dogs with ridiculous affection. She does not know what the future holds, whether motherhood will happen through marriage, single parenting, or another path. But she has chosen not to surrender her dreams to a ticking clock. And that, too, is courage.

Epilogue

Maybe the problem was never these women. Maybe the problem is how narrowly we defined motherhood itself.

Motherhood is not a single experience. It is not reserved only for those who fit a checklist. Sometimes it looks like distance, or letting go, or choosing, or waiting. Because after all, “mother” is not just a noun.

It is a verb.

Author’s Note

As I wrote this, I realized something quietly amusing about my own life. Today, I am mothering a six-year-old four-legged girl, a 21-year-old two-legged girl, and an 81-year-old girl who no longer walks.

Somewhere between being a daughter, a mother, a caregiver, a pet parent, an emotional dustbin, and a professional worrier… I suppose I have stopped trying to fit motherhood into neat definitions myself. And maybe that is the whole point of this article.

By Deepa Perumal

Deepa Perumal is a Management professional, and a passionate advocate for women’s empowerment. As a career mentor, entrepreneur, and multilingual author, she shares her insights through blogging and writing features on history, world cultures, travelogues and memoirs. Contact her at deepabperumal@gmail.com