Who Am I When the Hats Come Off?

Some days, I wake up and I’m not sure which hat I’m wearing first.

Am I the chef making breakfast while calculating fractions in my head for our next math lesson?

Am I the school teacher explaining the life cycle of a butterfly while changing a diaper with one hand and answering a Teams message with the other?

Am I the cleaner, the snack-prepper, the chauffeur, the emotional anchor, the grocery-runner, the lesson planner, the household auditor (yes, that’s a thing)—or am I the professional sitting in a Zoom meeting trying to look halfway composed from the shoulders up (shh don't tell)?

The answer is: I’m all of those things. All at once. On any given day. Sometimes in the same hour.

And while this full plate of roles may look chaotic from the outside, the truth is—it’s my life. It’s the life I’ve built with intention. One that revolves around my children, our homeschool rhythms, their milestones, their needs, their becoming. One that makes room for me to work—not just for the paycheck but to provide more for my family. More opportunities, more margin, more freedom to choose a lifestyle that aligns with our values.

But here’s the part I’ve wrestled with lately…

Where is Krystyna in all of this?

Not the mama.

Not the wife.

Not the professional.

But just me.

Somewhere between homeschool lessons and brand strategy meetings, between wiping noses and writing copy, I realized something: while I’m working so hard to help my children develop their sense of identity and independence, I’ve quietly set mine aside.

I tell them daily: “You can be anything. You have so many gifts to share. Go chase your dreams.” And then I look at myself in the mirror and ask, “What happened to mine?"

Don’t get me wrong—my dreams have changed over the years. I no longer crave the hustle of a corner office or constant motion. I long for slow mornings, unhurried time with my babies, a peaceful home. My goals now look like margin, time, space, presence. But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped dreaming. It just means my dreams have taken root in a different soil.

And now, they’re beginning to bloom again.

Because here’s the truth: I’m not just supporting a homeschool lifestyle. I’m creating one. Not just for my children—but for myself.

I’ve started pouring into ideas that light me up again—ideas that blend creativity, strategy, faith, and heart. I’m building tools and resources that not only support our homeschool journey but offer grace and structure for other moms walking a similar path. I’m sketching out business plans, designing printables, writing from the heart, and leaning into the gifts I know God placed in me long ago.

I’ve realized that while everyone else might just see me being a mom, I am quietly building a legacy.

Not the kind made of marble and gold—but one crafted from intention, wisdom, and the slow, sacred work of showing up.

Day after day.

Dream after dream.

Lesson after lesson.

This isn’t about abandoning the roles I play. It’s about anchoring them in something deeper.

Because at the end of the day, being a mom, a wife, a professional—those are beautiful parts of my identity. But they aren’t all of me.

I’m still becoming.

I’m still dreaming.

I’m still Krystyna.

And I believe there’s more inside me—more creativity, more wisdom, more perspective, more story—meant not just for my family or my job, but for the world.

So if you’re reading this and feeling a little lost in the layers, let me whisper this truth to you:

You’re still in there.

You still matter.

And it’s not too late to build something that reflects you.

Even if it starts small.

Even if it starts in the cracks of naptime and laundry and lesson plans.

You’re not just teaching your kids how to learn.

You’re showing them how to live.

And if you ask me, that’s the most powerful lesson of all.