ROLE CALL!!

Ya’ll? I think I’m in the middle of an existential crisis. I know I’m probably not the only one.

I started my very first substack entry telling you about all the “noble” titles I hold…and I’m already cringing that I wrote all of that (helloooo, that’d be my Gemini moon showing off). But here’s the thing… when somebody asks who I am, I never want those titles to be the very first thing others say. I don’t want to be defined by a list of tasks. I don’t want to be reduced to what I do. The dichotomy of being a humble baddie is… a lot!

It’s funny (is it?!) how motherhood shifts your entire sense of self. There’s a weight that comes with it… the long list of titles, roles, and responsibilities that I’ve never thought about before. Yet, somehow, it feels like I’m always being measured by them. Somehow, these titles can still make or break my self-esteem. They define how I see myself and my worth—sometimes in ways I don’t want to admit.

As a Capricorn rising, I am so naturally drawn to striving for perfection in everything I do. I want to be the expert, the one who has it all figured out, and I don’t feel comfortable calling myself anything unless I’m really THAT! It's this constant push for mastery that can be both motivating and overwhelming. I’m the type of person who believes in fully committing to something, owning it, and doing it at the highest level. If I can’t do that, I hesitate to take on the label at all. This is something I’ve been wrestling with recently, especially when it comes to my role as a birthworker.

Motherhood, especially in 2025, is a constant balancing act. It’s navigating a reality that feels more like a chaotic, unpredictable hellscape every day. I’m stretched thin, juggling being a wife and mother, supporting my father, and figuring out how to keep my own identity and passions intact in the process.

That is what brings me to this deeper reckoning I’ve been having with the title of birthworker. The truth is, I haven’t attended a birth in several months. And while I’m not entirely sure what my relationship with birth work looks like at this exact moment, I know that being a doula is an act of resistance, a powerful statement in a world that continuously tries to control women's bodies and experiences. That’s the part of birthwork that still ignites me. It’s a rebellion against systems that attempt to strip away autonomy, dignity, and humanity from birthing people.

But when it comes down to it, being a birthworker is nothing like my teaching or podcasting jobs. It’s not something I can clock in and out of or multi-task through. It’s an all-consuming act of love, care, and advocacy. When I’m on call, it's not just a matter of being physically available; it’s about mentally, emotionally, and spiritually preparing myself for a moment where life and the world as we know it is about to change. It’s about stepping into a raw and vulnerable space with someone and guiding them through that transformative experience—often in the midst of balancing the chaos of my own life.

These days, my birth work looks a little different. I get my fix from supporting moms in my DMs and texts, offering guidance and support from afar. But it’s not the same as being present for that in-person, real-time energy that fills the room during a birth. I miss it deeply. Those sacred moments, the energy that shifts when a family meets their baby for the first time—it’s an indescribable, deeply human experience. One that I ache to return to.

What called me to tap back into this energy is the recent conversation I had with Evelynn Escobar on my podcast, Doing It All. We talked about how birthing the way we want to is a way of reclaiming power in a world that often diminishes our voices, our bodies, and our choices. The conversation was a reminder of why I fell in love with this work in the first place. I feel so out of control, that time almost stops as I’m making space for others to have agency in their own bodies, their own births, and their own stories. Talking to Evelynn inspired me to reconnect with my passion, push through the challenges and make space for this calling.

With that said, I want to offer my support to three mothers this summer, free of charge. Whether you’re in need of emotional support, birth plan guidance, or just someone to hold space for you, I’m here for you. If you or someone you know in the DMV area could benefit from this, please reach out to me.

If you’re moved by this, please share. Your support will help me reach those who need it most.

With love,
Maya