The Quiet Mum Rebellion Begins
I didn't leave my job because I was unhappy.
I left because I could no longer ignore the woman I was becoming.
On the 27th March 2026, I walked out of the only career I'd ever known.
Twenty-three years. Thousands of software defects found. Hundreds of project sprints delivered.
A career that brought me to Australia.
A career that gave me lifelong friends.
A career that watched me grow from a young woman into a wife ... and into a mother.
We celebrated birthdays, growing families, new homes and milestones. We grew up together.
And for that ... I will always be grateful.
Leaving wasn't because my career failed me.
It was because ... my purpose found me.
For months before I resigned, there was a conversation I couldn't escape.
Not with my boss. Not with my husband. Not with anyone else.
With myself.
It was quiet. Persistent. Almost annoying.
‘Is this really all you are here to do?’
I tried to silence it. I convinced myself I should just be grateful.
After all, I had the stable job. The income. The security.
The career many people dream of.
So why wasn't that enough?
Because I wasn't just questioning my career.
I was questioning the story I've been living.
I grew up Filipino.
Like many Asian women, I didn't just inherit traditions. I inherited expectations.
To be humble. To put everyone else first.
A ‘good mother’ makes sacrifices. A ‘good wife’ endures. A ‘good woman’ doesn't ask for more.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped asking myself what I wanted.
And I know I'm not alone.
Because I see mothers doing this every single day. They quietly disappear behind everyone else's needs. And society applauds them for it.
We call it being a good mum.
I don't anymore.
Because a mother who loses herself doesn't teach her children how to live.
She teaches them how to disappear.
Research calls it the motherhood penalty.
Mothers experience interrupted careers, slower progression and lower lifetime earnings.
But I think there's another penalty nobody talks about.
The identity penalty. The dream penalty. The penalty of believing ...
‘Maybe one day.’
One day becomes ten years. Then twenty.
Until we can barely recognise the woman staring back at us.
That woman ... was me.
Then I heard Mel Robbins say something that stopped me in my tracks.
‘You're one decision away from a completely different life.’
That sentence haunted me.
Because I realised...I wasn't waiting for clarity. I was waiting for permission.
Permission to choose myself. Permission to dream again. Permission to become someone new.
But nobody was coming.
So, after four months of wrestling with fear ...
I resigned.
The funny thing is ... The fear didn't disappear.
The weekend after I resigned, news broke that the US and Iran had entered military conflict.
Suddenly the world felt uncertain. I remember thinking ...
'Have I just made the biggest mistake of my life?’
Then, during my final week at work, Western Australia was preparing for severe weather from ex-Tropical Cyclone Narelle.
We were told to work from home.
Without knowing it ... I already had my last day in the office.
No dramatic farewell. No perfect ending. No cake! Just one ordinary Thursday ... that quietly became the end of a 23-year chapter.
Maybe that was fitting. Because the biggest decisions in our lives rarely arrive with fireworks.
They begin with a whisper.
I'm building The Mum Rising Journey™.
But more than that ... I'm starting something I hope becomes much bigger than me.
The Quiet Mum Rebellion™.
Not a rebellion against husbands. Not against children. Not against careers.
Not a rebellion against motherhood.
A rebellion against the belief that mothers must disappear so everyone else can thrive.
Because here's what I've learned...
A fulfilled mother doesn't take anything away from her family.
She gives them something priceless.
Permission to become who they were created to be.
Research continues to show that a mother's wellbeing has a profound influence on her children's emotional health, development and family relationships.
A happy mother doesn't just change her own life.
She changes generations.
Three months on ... I'm still scared sometimes.
Some mornings uncertainty sits beside me. But something else sits beside it.
Purpose. And purpose is louder.
The mothers I want to help are not strangers. They are my past self. The woman who thought following the status quo was the only responsible choice. She wasn't broken. She had simply forgotten who she was.
If you're reading this and something inside you feels stirred ...
Maybe this isn't just my story. Maybe it's yours too.
Maybe this is your invitation to join The Quiet Mum Rebellion™.
Not because you're unhappy. Not because your life has fallen apart.
But because deep down ...
you know it's time.
🧡 Your Rebel Mum,
Cherry
What part of yourself have you been putting on hold while taking care of everyone else?
↪️Share this to a MUM Friend
💌 Let me know your thoughts : [email protected]
References:
🇦🇺 Australian National University – The Motherhood Penalty
🌏 South Asian Therapists – Emotional Suppression in South Asian Culture
🎙️ The Mel Robbins Podcast – Trust Your Gut: How to Make a Hard Decision
❤️ NIH (National Institutes of Health) – Maternal Life Satisfaction and Children's Wellbeing
