The Cost of Wanting More

being ambitious when you don’t own the ground you’re standing on

“I don’t feel guilty for being a mother with ambition. I feel frustrated that ambition has nowhere to go.”

I want to start with this:
I don’t feel guilty about being a mother.

My kids are thriving.
Their father is present.
I am here.
And I want more.

I’m tired of the narrative that ambition and motherhood are always at war. They’re not in my home. What I’m wrestling with is the fact that ambition doesn’t come with a visa, a bank account, or a salary in my name.

When I moved to Switzerland, I became a wife. Then a mother. But I didn’t get to become me.

Everything we have is through my husband. And no — I don’t feel entitled to what he built. He worked hard, yes. He came from wealth, yes. He had opportunities I didn’t. He’s also nine years older than me, white, and benefitted from systems that were never built for someone like me.

Still, I respect that it’s his.

But what about mine?

I have no savings. No foundation. Nothing I can point to and say, “I did that. I made that. I own that.” And it hurts. Not because I want status. But because I want security — for myself and for my girls.

What if he remarries one day? What if his wealth is shared again? What will they inherit from me? What do I leave behind, besides love, patience, stories, snacks, and softness?

I’ve been trying. I’ve worked. I’ve shown up.

I remember being just two months postpartum when the school called. I went. My husband worked from home and rocked our twins while I taught — because I believed this would lead to something permanent. Something stable.

I applied for that position. I applied for four years in a row. I was always the supply. Never the pick.

And then, when they finally called me in for an interview — the first in years — it wasn’t real. It was process.
They hired someone else. I believe she was white. But let’s not get into that.

Let’s get into how ambition feels when you have no way to move forward.
Let’s get into how tired I am of having ideas and no funds to make them real.

That’s why I’m making this jewelry line.
Even if he doesn’t get it.
Even if I have to ask for a loan.
Even if it’s provocative.

Because it speaks to me.
Because I’m tired of being the one in the background with “potential.”
Because I want my daughters to see their mother make something — even when the system didn’t make room for her.

I’m not asking for permission. I’m asking how. And that’s a cost I’m still figuring out how to pay.