When Did Motherhood Stop Being Sacred?

In the name of “economic parity” and “female empowerment,” we’ve reframed womanhood itself as a “burden.” Motherhood, once the crown of feminine power, has been made out to be an obstacle to status, income, stuff, and self-actualization. We tell young women that to matter, they must become more like traditional men: relentless competitors in the workplace, unencumbered by pregnancy, nursing, or nurturing, when in actuality it’s the beautiful foundation of life itself. This isn’t liberation but, like I always say, a unique, insidious form of misogyny dressed up in progressive clothing.

The symptoms are everywhere. Fertility rates are plummeting in the western world. Young women report record levels of depression and anxiety, many of them admitting in therapy sessions or late-night conversations that the promised fulfillment of career-first, stuff-seeking living feels hollow. Boys, meanwhile, are lost in a culture that offers them little belief of masculine purpose, raised in homes where the sacred work of motherhood is sidelined or outsourced. The gender wars rage away on social media and in political debates, pitting men and women against each other as rivals rather than teammates. We’ve devalued the very thing that makes women uniquely powerful: the capacity to create and sustain life, to try to reach “parity,” and I’m sick of it.

Motherhood, once the crown of feminine power, has been made out to be an obstacle to status, income, stuff, and self-actualization.

It doesn’t have to be this way. We can (and must) give women freedom to make their own paths. Some will thrive professionally, others in the arts or in family life. But society as a whole must once again glorify womanhood and motherhood with the reverence it deserves. We don’t need to return to the past. I believe we simply need to recover ancient wisdom that understood motherhood not as limitation but as the beating heart of civilization and work that into our thinking today.

Across time and geography, certain cultures elevated the feminine, honored mothers as sacred vessels of life, and built societies around matrilineal strength. Their examples remind us that valuing women as women creates harmony, not hierarchy. Perhaps by studying them, we can start to heal the rift in our own chaotic time.

Let’s begin by looking at ancient Egypt which offers one of the clearest examples of this balance. Far from the oppressive patriarchy we often imagine throughout history, Egyptian women possessed remarkable legal autonomy. They could own and inherit property, initiate divorce, and even be doctors, scribes, or priestesses. Royal succession frequently traced legitimacy through the female line, underscoring the belief that a queen’s blood carried divine continuity. This kind of respect wasn’t an accident. It flowed directly from the culture’s reverence for motherhood. Goddesses like Isis embodied fertility, protection, healing, and the nurturing force that sustained the cosmos. Human mothers were seen as earthly reflections of these divine figures, life-givers whose role connected them to the sacred order of Ma’at, the principle of truth and harmony. Far from being sidelined by childbearing, Egyptian women were honored precisely because of it. Their capacity to bring new life was understood as a holy power, not a “professional detour.”

Travel farther back to the Bronze Age civilization of Minoan Crete, which is often described as woman-centered. Excavations at sites reveal a society where the primary deities were female: the Great Mother Goddess, the Snake Goddess symbolizing fertility and authority. Art and religious iconography showed women in positions of high status like priestesses conducting rituals, elegant ladies participating in public ceremonies. Motherhood was visually and spiritually central to their living. Figurines of women in childbirth or nursing babies suggest that the natural power of the female body wasn’t hidden but celebrated. In this culture, the feminine wasn’t an afterthought; it was the spiritual and aesthetic core to them. Scholars debate whether Minoan society was fully matriarchal, but the evidence is clear: womanhood and motherhood were sources of prestige and divine connection, not obstacles to be minimized like they are today.

On the other side of the world, Vedic India in its early traditions showed women as living embodiments of the divine mother goddess. The texts portray the mother as the highest guru, worthy of reverence a thousand times greater than the father. Shakti, the feminine creative energy, animated the universe, and women were seen as her personification, the essential source of life and creation. Women composed hymns, debated philosophy, and held intellectual status alongside men. Motherhood wasn’t just a domestic chore but a cosmic act linking each family to the eternal rhythm of birth, sustenance, and renewal. The epics reinforce this: devoted sons like the Pandavas and Duryodhana have their mothers’ counsel above everything else. In the Vedic worldview, honoring the mother was honoring the very force that sustains human existence.

Womanhood and motherhood were sources of prestige and divine connection, not obstacles to be minimized like they are today.

Indigenous North America gives another noteworthy model to look at. The Iroquois Confederacy operated as a matrilineal society in which women held real authority. Clan Mothers (respected elder women) nominated and could remove male chiefs, making sure leaders remained accountable to the community. Women controlled agricultural land, managed property, and shaped the political and spiritual norms of the tribe. Descent and inheritance passed through the female line. Motherhood here was explicitly tied to leadership and sustenance. Iroquois mothers had power that was both practical and sacred. Their role was foundational.

Closer to me personally, let’s look at the Mi’kmaq in eastern Canada. I grew up in Nova Scotia and I have Mi’kmaq in my ancestry. In the Mi’kmaq worldview, woman and man are not rivals but the fulfillments of one another, bound by shared duties and a deep harmony. Yet women carry a sacred obligation to the Holy Spirit as keepers of the unknown, and they view them as gifted to see the ordinary with wonder and to “shape tomorrow.” To them, each woman becomes the primal path that draws her man past the grind of daily life into the unknowable future. They are wisdom on earth, helping guide their men and communities.

Even deeper in prehistory, the Neolithic settlement of Çatalhöyük in Anatolia (modern Turkey) hints at a world saturated with female divinity. Among the thousands of artifacts they found, the most iconic is the Seated Woman of Çatalhöyük, an 8,000-year-old clay figurine of a female figure on a throne between two leopards, possibly in the act of giving birth. Hundreds of similar goddess figurines suggest a culture that placed the Mother Goddess at the center of spiritual life. While interpretations vary, the overwhelming emphasis on mature, fertile female forms points to a society that glorified the life-creating power of women. Motherhood wasn’t a burden; it appears to have been the organizing principle of their worldview.

These patterns happen even in the modern era. Among China’s Mosuo people, often called the “Kingdom of Women,” society remains proudly matrilineal. Women head households, manage property, and pass inheritance directly from mother to daughter. Children belong to their mother’s line. The system prioritizes female authority in domestic and economic affairs without diminishing men’s roles in other spheres. Another group, Indonesia’s Minangkabau (the world’s largest matrilineal society) trace descent and property through the female line. Women control ancestral lands and big houses, while husbands are welcomed as honored guests. Despite being devout Muslims, Minangkabau culture has kept this structure for centuries, showing that matrilineal respect for motherhood can coexist with faith and the modern day.

What unites these cultures? Three powerful themes stand out. First, matrilineal inheritance: property, lineage, and authority flowed through mothers, grounding society in the undeniable reality of maternity. Second, goddess worship: a central Mother Goddess, whether Isis, the Snake Goddess, Shakti, or the Seated Woman, symbolized fertility, creation, and spiritual power. Third, and most importantly, a profound respect for motherhood itself. It was never viewed as a limitation on a woman’s worth. Instead, it was the way of leadership, sustenance, and cosmic order. Motherhood elevated women rather than diminishing them. 

Imagine a culture that once again crowns motherhood.

We don’t need to copy these societies exactly. I’m in no way saying that women should be more important than men or have all the authority. Balance and respect for both sexes is most important. And these past civilizations’ imperfections—like slavery in Egypt, ritual sacrifice in some of the Minoan groups, or the real challenges of matriliny—remind us that no human culture was ever flawless. But what we can recover is the underlying wisdom: men and women aren’t interchangeable, nor are they rivals. They’re complementary. Masculine and feminine each carry universal significance. When we honor both equally without pretending they’re the same, we create space for harmony.

Imagine a culture that once again crowns motherhood. Young women would feel less pressure to delay or forgo children out of economic desires or “betraying women.” Mental health would improve as the sexes wouldn't be encouraged to compete and the lie that fulfillment comes only from corporate ladders and material things would dissolve. Boys would grow up witnessing moms valued as powerful, not victims, giving them clearer models of family and their purpose. The gender wars might quiet down as we stop forcing women into male molds and instead celebrate the unique glory of the feminine.

Men and women were never meant to compete for the same crown. We’re on the same team, designed to thrive together. By looking honestly at our past, not through the distorted lens of modern ideology but with open eyes, we can regain the ancient truth that motherhood is not a burden to be managed but a sacred power to be honored. When we give womanhood its crown again, I think everyone wins, and our children, our families, and our civilization itself will be the richer for it.