Julie, founder of The Mothership Collective, is creating a space where motherhood and identity can coexist fully. Through storytelling, outdoor gatherings, and honest conversations, she reminds women that becoming a mother does not mean losing the parts of themselves they love most.
What started as sharing real glimpses of motherhood outdoors quickly grew into a powerful community for women craving connection, adventure, creativity, and authenticity.
In this conversation, Julie shares the inspiration behind The Mothership Collective, her philosophy on identity after motherhood, and why community matters now more than ever.
What inspired you to start The Mothership Collective, and what was the moment you realized this community needed to exist?
The Mothership Collective really started from a feeling I couldn’t shake after becoming a mom: that I loved my daughter more than anything, but I also didn’t want motherhood to mean disappearing from myself.
Before having Rae, I built so much of my identity around being outside, being adventurous, being creative, saying yes to big ideas, and generally chasing the kind of life that felt a little wild and fully mine. Then I became a mom and suddenly so much of the messaging around me felt like I was supposed to become softer, smaller, more selfless in a way that didn’t leave much room for the person I had been before.
The moment I realized this community needed to exist was when I started sharing little glimpses of our life — camping with a baby, getting outside even when it was messy, talking honestly about the identity shift of motherhood — and women started responding with some version of, “I needed to see this.” Not because I had it all figured out, but because they needed proof that motherhood didn’t have to mean handing over the parts of themselves they loved most.
The Mothership was born from that. It’s a space for moms who want to bring their full selves into motherhood; the adventure, the humor, the ambition, the dirt, the joy, the chaos, all of it.
You talk beautifully about motherhood expanding identity rather than shrinking it — can you share more about that philosophy and how it evolved for you personally?
I think a lot of women enter motherhood bracing for loss. Loss of freedom, identity, time, body, friendships, adventure, creativity. And honestly, some of that is real. There is grief in becoming a mother, even when you’re deeply grateful to be one.
But what I’ve found is that motherhood doesn’t have to erase who you are. It can actually add new dimensions to you.
For me, motherhood didn’t make me less adventurous. It made adventure more layered. It didn’t make me less creative. It gave me more urgency to build something meaningful. It didn’t make me less myself. It forced me to fight harder for the parts of myself I wanted to keep.
That’s where the idea of “motherhood expands you” came from. Not in a toxic positivity way where everything is magical and easy, but in a very real way. You stretch. You adapt. You become more resourceful, more tender, more feral, more aware of your limits and your strength.
I don’t think the goal is to become the “old you” again. I think the goal is to let motherhood become part of your identity without letting it become the whole thing.
How has becoming a mother changed your relationship with adventure, creativity, and the outdoors?
It has made all of it more complicated, but also more meaningful. Adventure used to be easier to define. It was a big bike ride, a backcountry trip, a last-minute camping weekend, a long day outside. Now adventure might be all of that, but it might also be getting a toddler bundled up and out the door when everyone is melting down. It might be dancing in a trailhead parking lot, setting up a tent in the backyard, hiking one mile and calling it a win, or turning an ordinary Tuesday into something that feels alive.
The outdoors also became less about performance for me. It’s not always about how far we went or how hard it was. Sometimes it’s about fresh air, regulation, connection, and remembering that we’re still people who belong outside, even with snacks exploding out of every pocket.
Creatively, motherhood lit a fire under me. I felt this strong pull to build the kind of brand and community I wanted to see in the world. Something honest, funny, beautiful, and a little unhinged in the best way. I wanted to tell stories that made women feel seen and reminded them that they’re still allowed to want more, create more, and be more than just needed.
What gaps did you notice in the outdoor or motherhood space that you wanted The Mothership Collective to help fill?
I felt like there were two worlds that weren’t talking to each other enough.
On one side, the outdoor space often celebrates big adventure, athleticism, epic landscapes, and personal freedom, but it doesn’t always make room for the logistical, emotional, and identity-shifting reality of motherhood.
On the other side, the motherhood space can be beautiful and supportive, but it can also feel very centered around products, milestones, parenting advice, and survival mode. I didn’t see enough content that said, “You’re still a whole, wild, interesting woman inside of this.”
I wanted The Mothership Collective to live in that gap.
We’re not here to tell moms they need to summit mountains with a baby strapped to them to be impressive. We’re here to say: you still get to have a life that feels like yours. You still get to be outside. You still get to be funny, ambitious, creative, strong, messy, stylish, outdoorsy, social, and fully alive.
And maybe most importantly, you don’t have to do it alone.
How do you hope women feel when they engage with your brand or attend one of your gatherings?
I hope they feel like they’ve found their people. The best compliment I ever heard is some version of, “I didn’t know other moms like this existed near me.” That’s really the heart of it. I want women to feel less alone, less weird for wanting what they want, and more permission to build a version of motherhood that actually feels good to them.
When someone comes to a Mothership gathering, I hope they feel welcomed without having to perform. They don’t need the perfect gear, the perfect baby, the perfect postpartum body, or the perfect outdoor resume. They can show up with spit-up on their shirt, a toddler losing it, a half-drunk iced coffee, and still feel like they belong.
The dream is that women leave feeling a little more connected to themselves and to each other. Like, “Okay, yes. This is still me. I’m still in here.”
What advice would you give to mothers who feel disconnected from themselves after having children?
Start small, and don’t wait until you feel fully like yourself to begin. I think a lot of moms wait for some magical moment when they’ll have more time, more energy, more childcare, more clarity, more confidence. But sometimes reconnection starts with the tiniest act of self-recognition.
Put on the outfit that feels like you. Take the walk. Text the friend. Sign up for the thing. Go outside for ten minutes. Listen to the music you used to love. Make something. Move your body in a way that isn’t about “bouncing back.” Let yourself want things that have nothing to do with being useful to someone else.
And also: be gentle with yourself. Feeling disconnected doesn’t mean you’re doing motherhood wrong. It means you’ve gone through a massive transformation and you’re still finding your footing.
You don’t have to reinvent yourself overnight. You just have to keep leaving breadcrumbs back to yourself.
Are there rituals, routines, or practices that help you stay grounded and connected to yourself?
Getting outside is probably the biggest one. It doesn’t have to be epic. Sometimes it’s just a walk, a coffee outside, sitting in the sun, or letting Rae run around while I remember that I am a human being with a nervous system and not just a snack dispenser.
Creativity is another big one for me. Writing, building The Mothership, creating campaigns, dreaming up events — all of that keeps me connected to the part of myself that feels most alive. I need a place to put my ideas, otherwise they just rattle around in my brain and turn into chaos.
I’m also a big believer in micro-rituals. Music in the kitchen. Iced lattes. A solo drive. A trailhead hang. Wearing something that makes me feel like myself. Making plans with women who get it. Little things that remind me I’m not just moving through a checklist.
What are you currently most excited about for The Mothership Collective?
I’m most excited about how real-world this community is becoming.
The online piece is powerful, but watching women actually gather in person has been incredible. This May, we launched Rally the Village, a global event series where 130+ women hosted local meetups across North America and beyond. Thousands of women came together for hikes, stroller walks, bike rides, coffee meetups, beach days, and all these small but meaningful moments of connection.
It proved what I’ve felt all along: moms are craving this. Not just another online group, but actual community. The kind where someone in your town says, “Hey, I want this too. Let’s go.”
I’m also really excited about building our ambassador program, growing our blog as a storytelling platform, and continuing to partner with brands that believe motherhood can be expansive, adventurous, and deeply individual.
The bigger vision is for The Mothership Collective to become a home base for women who are raising kids without losing themselves; a place for stories, gatherings, resources, humor, and community that makes motherhood feel less isolating and a lot more alive.
