I Started Capitalizing Mother, and It Changed How I See Myself

I started doing something recently that might look like a typo.

I capitalize Mother.
Mom.
Motherhood.

Not just in titles, not just when it’s grammatically required. Everywhere.

I actually started doing it while writing my book, Good Girl, Bad Mom, during a season when I was growing into a deeper, more overt respect for the role of Mother. The more I wrote about what Mothers carry, emotionally, mentally, physically, logistically, the more wrong it began to feel to keep writing the word small.

At first, it felt subtle. Almost cosmetic.

But the more I did it, the more I realized it wasn’t small at all.

It was a correction.

Somewhere along the way, Motherhood became something we write in lowercase and live in uppercase.

We say it casually.
We carry it completely.

And that disconnect started to bother me.

I’ve spent years talking with women, Mothers, who are holding entire ecosystems together.

Schedules.
Emotions.
Logistics.
Meals.
Milestones.
Relationships.

Not helping or assisting.

Running it.

And yet, culturally, the role still gets treated like background noise. Expected. Unpaid. Unnamed.

So small in language.
So massive in reality.

When I looked closer, I realized this wasn’t just personal, it shows up in actual outcomes too.

Motherhood is one of the strongest predictors of the gender pay gap. Each young child can significantly impact a woman’s earnings, even when everything else, education, experience, ambition, stays the same.

So we’re not just talking about perception. We’re talking about value.

Or more accurately, the lack of it.

And language plays a role in that.

We capitalize what we revere.

Doctor.
President.
God.

But Mother? Somewhere, it got edited down.And when something is consistently written small, it doesn’t just stay on the page.

It starts to shape how we see it and how we see ourselves.

So for me, this became less about grammar, and more about alignment. If I believe Motherhood is foundational, then my language should reflect that.

If I believe this role is complex, demanding, and identity-shifting, then it shouldn’t be written like an afterthought.

Capitalizing Mother didn’t change my to-do list but it did change something quieter.

It made the role feel named.
Seen.
Weighted.

And oddly, respected.

This is about being precise with worth not precious with words.Because language doesn’t just describe reality, it helps construct it. And if we want a different cultural conversation around Motherhood, we can start by changing how we speak about it.

Even in small ways….especially in small ways!

If you’re reading this, you don’t have to adopt it.

But you can try it.

Write it once.
Mother.

See how it feels in your body.

Not as a title.
As a recognition.

Because this isn’t really about capitalization. Rather, it’s about refusing to participate in the quiet minimization of something that is anything but small.

And choosing, instead, to name it accordingly.

One letter at a time.

xo,

D