Finding My Way Back to Myself Postpartum

By Adriana Tamayo

Before I ever became a mother, I thought I knew exactly who I was. I grew up in Venezuela with a pilot for a dad, spending weekends landing on dirt strips in untouched islands or flying deep into the Amazon to camp with indigenous tribes. What I lived growing up is what most people can only dream of. Adventure wasn’t a hobby, it was my home, my classroom, my language.

Then came my summers at camp. First as the kid who never wanted to go home, and later as a counselor for more than ten years. I taught horseback riding, mountain climbing, and ropes courses, anything that involved dirt, courage, and doing something that scared you a little.

As an adult, traveling became my oxygen. I worked hard so I could travel farther. Solo trips to Thailand, Cambodia, and Europe. My dream honeymoon across Kenya and Tanzania. Wandering, discovering, being outside, that was joy to me.

So when I imagined motherhood, my logic was simple:
My parents did it. They kept their lifestyle. They continued adventuring. I can do the same.

I fully believed that.

But motherhood had its own version in store.

The Unexpected Descent

I had hyperemesis gravidarum with both pregnancies. Not morning sickness, debilitating, identity-erasing sickness that stole my muscle mass, my independence, and slowly, my sense of self.

And when my babies arrived, the anxiety hit. The “keep them alive at all costs” kind. Add a global pandemic to the mix, and suddenly even stepping outside became a risk my nervous system couldn’t handle.

I didn’t trust anyone else to help me care for them. I didn’t trust the outside world. And I became someone I didn’t recognize, a person who stayed home out of fear, not comfort.

The girl who once threw her backpack into tiny planes headed for the Virgin Islands was now terrified of a walk around the block.

It was a kind of grief I wasn’t prepared for.

The Quiet Night That Changed Everything

One night, breastfeeding in the dark, drowning in guilt for feeling miserable in a life I had once dreamed of… I asked myself the hardest question:

What used to make me happy? Who was I before all this fear?

And the answer came softly, almost embarrassingly simple:
Being outside. Moving my body. Feeling the world around me.

Not grand adventures. Not plane tickets or safaris. Just… being outside.

That was the thread back to myself.

Small Steps Toward a New Identity

So I started small.

A slow stroller walk.
A baby blanket at a scenic spot for tummy time.
Ten minutes outdoors.
Five minutes in fresh air.

Little by little, I felt pieces of myself wake up again.

Those tiny steps became bigger ones. A jogging stroller that turned into running again, that turned into biking with my kids that turned into weekly trips to the rock-climbing gym.

And step by step, I began to feel joy again, not the old version of joy, free and spontaneous, but a grounded, deliberate joy that existed because of my kids, not in spite of them.

The Birth of Play Outside

As I healed, something else began growing inside me, a question that kept tugging at my heart:

If being outside saved me, how many other moms are quietly drowning inside their homes, not knowing that joy is waiting for them right beyond the door?

I started noticing how complicated it can feel to get kids outdoors. The logistics, the gear, the planning, the fear of going alone, not to mention the mental load. And I kept thinking… there should be tools that make this easier. Simpler.

That’s when Play Outside was born, not as a business, but as a lifeline. A way to help moms reconnect with the world, with their kids, and with themselves.

I wanted to create products that took away friction. That made “let’s go outside” feel possible, even on the hard days. Especially on the hard days. Play Outside came from my own healing. From my desire to give other moms the same path back to themselves.

Where I Am Now

I’m still not back to the giant adventures, and honestly, I admire the moms who can take their babies across the world. I’m not there… yet. But I’ve realized something important: my time is coming again, probably when my youngest is out of the crib and stroller phase. And I’m okay with that.

For now, I’ve built a life around daily outdoor play, rain or shine, heat or cold. We travel as much as our finances allow, usually staying closer than I would solo. I’m expanding their little world piece by piece, planting seeds of adventure the way my parents did for me. And I know someday, I’ll show them the wilder corners of the world. But this time, not alone, with my favorite people by my side.

I will never again travel as light or as carefree. But the trade-off is worth everything. Because motherhood didn’t take my love of adventure away, it simply transformed it.

And in finding my way back outside, I found my way back to myself.

About the Author

Adriana Tamayo is a mom of two kids, a 15 year camp counselor and outdoor advocate, and the founder of Play Outside, a brand on a mission to help families Play Outside more. She’s passionate about helping parents travel lighter, stress less, and raise kids who feel at home in the wild. When she’s not hiking muddy trails or testing kid gear, you’ll find her dreaming up the next adventure.