When Ambition Meets Motherhood: The Hard Truth My Daughter Taught Me

Last Monday, I got into a fight with my 19-year-old daughter. I’m lucky, because that doesn’t happen very often, but when it does, the uncomfortable feelings tend to stay with me longer than I’d like.

It wasn’t even the argument itself that bothered me most. It was what she said in the middle of it.

She told me I was selfish. She said I’m always focused on what matters to me — hockey, the new arena project, coaching, the podcast, my book — and that I don’t always stop to see things from her perspective. She said I tend to make things about my own experiences.

That one landed hard.

I’m not sharing this to throw her under the bus. We’re fine. We both apologized. We both learned something. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting. It did. Mostly because there was truth in it.

There’s a unique challenge that many working mothers understand, especially those who are ambitious and deeply invested in their careers. Women are often asked to live in two worlds at once. We’re encouraged to chase goals, lead, build businesses, earn promotions, and maximize our potential. At the same time, we’re expected to remain endlessly available, emotionally attuned, and fully present at home. If we lean too hard in one direction, we often feel judged in the other.

Research backs this up. Pew Research Center has found that working mothers are more likely than fathers to adjust work responsibilities for family needs, while still carrying a greater share of the mental load at home. McKinsey & Company and LeanIn.Org have also reported that women in leadership roles often feel intense pressure to succeed professionally while managing higher expectations personally.

That tension is real. But if I’m honest, this moment with my daughter wasn’t really about societal expectations. It was about me needing to look in the mirror.

One of my CliftonStrengths is Relator. When someone tells me something they’re going through, my natural instinct is to connect by saying, “I understand. I went through that too.” In my mind, that’s empathy. I’m trying to let them know they’re not alone.

But I’m starting to understand the shadow side of that strength.

Sometimes it doesn’t come across as connection. Sometimes it sounds like I’m making the conversation about me.

My daughter didn’t need to hear about what I experienced at 19. She didn’t need a comparison, a lesson, or a story. She needed to feel heard in her own experience.

That realization was humbling.

What makes it even more ironic is that one of the lessons in my upcoming book Rebellious Success is about being self-full, not selfish. I believe women should pursue meaningful work, take up space, use their gifts, and not apologize for wanting more out of life. That’s self-full. But there’s a fine line. When the people closest to us feel unseen, our self-fullness can look a lot like selfishness to them.

That’s something I’m sitting with.

The lesson here isn’t that I need to shrink my ambition or stop being excited about my projects. I love what I’m building. I’m proud of the work I’m doing, and yes, I’m incredibly excited about my book coming out in August.

The lesson is that not every audience needs every update.

There are people in my life who want to hear about business wins, book launches, and new opportunities. There are also people in my life who simply want my attention. My daughter falls into the second category more often than I’ve recognized.

So what do I need to change?

Honestly, it’s simple. When she comes to talk to me, I need to stop typing on my laptop. Turn my chair. Look her in the eye. Put the phone down. Listen without comparing. Listen without fixing. Listen without waiting for my turn to speak.

Just listen.

Growth doesn’t always come wrapped in compliments. Sometimes it comes through conflict. Sometimes it comes through being called out by your own kid. And sometimes the people who know us best are the ones brave enough to show us where we still have work to do.

I’m still ambitious. I’m still building. But I’m learning that some of the most important moments in life have nothing to do with achievement and everything to do with presence.