by Jane Magnuson
Transitioning back to work after having a baby is hard. Being a working parent is hard. You want to grow your career and also be present with your child. Yet no one teaches you how to integrate these two demanding worlds.
Many new parents naturally lean on perfectionism. It feels safe, but in reality it backfires. As a recovering perfectionist who has transitioned back to work twice after maternity leave—once in BigLaw and once in tech—and now as a coach, I’ve seen firsthand how perfectionism does more harm than good in that first few years back.
What Perfectionism Looks Like
Perfectionism looks like striving for an impossibly high standard where you never feel satisfied.
For new working parents, it often shows up as:
- Unrealistic expectations: believing you’ll work like you never had a baby and parent like you don’t work.
- All-or-nothing thinking: feeling like you’re either excelling at everything or failing everywhere.
- Self-criticism: assuming something is wrong with you if you’re struggling or making mistakes.
- Comparison: believing other working parents have it all figured out.
- Overcompensating: pushing harder at work and at home.
- Neglecting self-care: treating rest and joy as luxuries you can’t afford.
- Going it alone: thinking you should handle everything without help.
Do you notice any of these in your own thoughts or behaviors? If so, you are not alone.
Perfectionism is common because it’s a coping mechanism many high achievers relied on in their careers before having kids.
Why It’s Harmful
Research has shown that perfectionism is linked to higher rates of postpartum depression. The more new mothers believe that they have to meet unrealistic parenting standards, the more they experience sadness, guilt, and defeat. Add workplace pressure to parenting perfectionism, and the cost can be overwhelming.
How It Played Out in My Transitions
I had two very different transitions back to work after having a baby— the first ended in burnout and quitting, while the second one brought growth. Looking back, I often wondered why my two experiences felt worlds apart. I soon realized the difference was simple but profound: during the first, I leaned hard into perfectionism; in the second, I learned how to step away from it.
My First Transition
When I had my first baby, I was a senior associate on the partnership track in BigLaw. From the outside, it looked like I was doing great: I had a healthy baby, a supportive spouse, and generous maternity leave. But inside, I was anxious and overwhelmed almost all the time. I worried I was failing as both a lawyer and a mother.
Ironically, the perfectionism that had fueled my early success in law school and BigLaw became the very thing that worked against me. After my maternity leave, I charged ahead—determined to prove I was still the same lawyer I’d been before. I constantly compared myself to peers without kids, worked late into the night, and ignored how depleted I felt. I constantly believed the voice in my head that whispered I had to be an A+ lawyer and an A+ mother at the same time. No matter how much I did, it never felt like enough. Even during downtime, I couldn’t switch off. I was either obsessing over unfinished work or spiraling into mom guilt. It was exhausting and isolating.
I never told anyone how much I was struggling. I worried asking for help meant I was weak and failing. Within six months, I was burned out and left the firm. That experience was a wake-up call. It taught me that perfectionism isn’t a strength—it’s a trap.
My Second Transition
When I returned to work after my second child—this time in an in-house role at a technology company—I knew I had to do things differently. I worked with a coach and began experimenting with what I now call my “Path B.”
Path B meant giving myself permission to redefine success. I scaled back temporarily, chose assignments more intentionally, and stopped working every night. I turned off notifications during family time and let my team know when I’d be offline. Most importantly, I stopped trying to prove I was the same lawyer—and started focusing on what truly mattered to my family and me.
I also began to shift the narratives I told myself. My ambition hadn’t faded—it had evolved. Working differently wasn’t failure—it was growth. And protecting my time and energy wasn’t selfish—it was strategic and sustainable.
That shift changed everything—for me, my family, and the way I now coach others through their own transitions. It made me realize how I had much more control over my transitions than I initially thought. And, I realized a healthy transition begins with the intention to do things differently.
In my next blog titled “8 Strategies to Choose Health Over Perfectionism as a Working Parent,” I’ll share eight practical strategies to choose health over perfectionism—the ones I wish I had known the first time around, and the ones that I applied in my second transition and have coached others.
