Matrescence supports women through identity change — because no woman should have to rebuild herself alone.

Matrescence wasn’t built from a place of confidence or certainty.

It was built during one of the hardest periods of my life.

At the end of my marriage, while struggling with my mental health, working as a midwife, and trying to grow my lactation consultant business, I found myself completely overwhelmed by the weight of who I was expected to be.

Caregiver. Professional. Mother. Supportive partner. Calm. Capable.

I could support women through birth, feeding and early motherhood, yet privately I was struggling to understand myself. Somewhere beneath the responsibilities and emotional labour, I felt disconnected from who I had been before.

At the time, I didn’t fully understand that I was experiencing matrescence too.

Not simply the transition into motherhood, but the ongoing process of identity change that women move through again and again. The unraveling and rebuilding of self. The grief for previous versions of yourself. The tension between who you were, who you are needed to be, and who you might become next.

Eventually, I took some time away from work because I was struggling to keep supporting everyone else while barely holding myself together. For the first time in a long time, I stopped long enough to really look at what was happening around me — both within maternity services and within women themselves.

Working as a midwife had given me a front-row seat to the realities many women face. I saw exhaustion normalised. Emotional struggles minimised. Mothers expected to cope silently while carrying enormous mental and physical loads. I saw women desperate for connection, reassurance and spaces where they could speak honestly without fear of judgement.

And quietly, I recognised myself in them.

I had become increasingly disheartened by the state of maternity care in the UK. Not because people working within it did not care, but because so many of us were trying to provide compassionate care within systems stretched beyond capacity. Women deserved more than rushed appointments, fragmented support and being told they were coping “well” simply because they were surviving.

During that time, I built Breastfeeding with Abigail, wanting to continue supporting women and families in a way that felt meaningful and personal. But alongside that, something else kept growing inside me — the belief that support should not only exist for those who could afford it.

I still believe deeply in the NHS and in care that is free at the point of access. I believe support, connection and compassion should not be luxuries. I believe in the power of community and in what happens when women are given safe spaces to be honest, vulnerable and supported by one another.

What began as an idea slowly became something much more personal. I didn’t start Matrescence CIC because I had everything figured out. I started it because I knew what it felt like to need support and not know where to find it.

I wanted to create the kind of spaces I wish had existed for me — spaces where women could arrive exactly as they are. Not polished. Not perfect. Just human.

Somewhere between burnout, heartbreak, motherhood and rebuilding, Matrescence began.