The unexpected creative gift I gained from motherhood

Before I became a mum, I thought the biggest challenge would be finding enough time to stay creative. I worried about fewer hours to write, fewer auditions, fewer rehearsals, fewer opportunities to throw myself completely into the work I loved. While those practical challenges are certainly real, I've been surprised to discover that motherhood has also given something back. It has, undoubtedly, made me a better writer.

No, I haven’t suddenly become more disciplined or more productive - quite the opposite some weeks! - but because it has completely changed the way I see people. It has made me slower to judge, quicker to empathise and much more interested in what sits beneath the surface of someone's behaviour. Becoming a parent has a way of reminding you that every person you meet was once somebody's baby, that every adult carries a lifetime of experiences, disappointments, triumphs, and invisible struggles that you know nothing about. As a writer, that's a wonderful thing to remember.

The stories that have always drawn me in are stories about women, particularly women overcoming. I've written about domestic violence, street harassment, and relationships because I've always been interested in the ceaseless strength of women in trying conditions, and in the quiet emotional lives we don't often see.

Motherhood hasn't changed those interests; it’s deepened them. I find myself asking different questions now and listening more carefully, because I understand a little more about how complicated life can be.

Children also remind us of something that adults often forget: curiosity is a creative superpower. My four-year-old asks questions about everything. His absolute favourite phrase is “...but why?”
Why are there 7 days in a week? Where does the moon go during the day? Why do some people look sad? My one-year-old will gaze with unwavering concentration at a flower, a ceiling fan or… wait, is he staring at a mark on the wall?

Have you seen the way kids react to bubbles? That unbridled joy. The innocent glee, so in the moment. And who can blame them! Bubbles are awesome. Imagine seeing a bubble for the first time.

Having children allows us to discover the world again, fresh, through their eyes. I think that's one of the greatest gifts any artist can receive.

The longer I spend writing, the more convinced I become that creativity isn't just about producing work,  paying attention, collecting moments, listening to conversations, reading widely, staying curious and allowing yourself to be surprised by people. Motherhood has invited me to do all of those things every single day, often when I'm least expecting it.

I’ve also noticed something else changing: the more I write about women, the more I care about the real women behind the stories. I've always believed storytelling has the power to create empathy, but I find myself thinking more and more about how I can contribute beyond the page, how I can support women, children, and the creative communities that have shaped my own life. The books we read, the films we watch, the plays we perform, and the conversations we have all shape the way we understand one another. Those ideas feel deeply connected to me now. They all come from the same place: a belief that stories matter because people matter, and that creativity can do more than entertain us; it can help us contribute to something bigger than ourselves.

Perhaps that's why I no longer see motherhood and creativity as two separate parts of my life competing for attention; they seem to be in conversation with each other. The more I experience one, the more it informs the other. My children have filled my days with funny moments and stories, and beyond that, they have developed my patience and given me a far deeper perspective.

So, yes, younger me - you weren’t wrong to wonder about the juggle. How on earth were you going to fit it all in? That is a legitimate issue! But it is far outweighed by the experience of one of the richest sources of inspiration I’ve ever known.
I'm still writing, of course. I sat down to write this, didn’t I? I'm still dreaming about the next play, the next novel, and the next character I'd love to bring to life. The difference is that now, when I sit down to write, I bring a little more of the world with me. I bring the conversations I've had, the books I've read with my boys, the women I've met, the stories I've listened to.

For me, that's been the unexpected gift of motherhood.
Not that it made creativity easier, because (yikes) it didn’t! But it made creativity deeper. And I have a feeling that every story I write from here will be better because of it.