The “Mental Load” is the Invisible Work That’s Crushing You. Here’s How to Share It
The “mental load” was the constant, buzzing to-do list in my head. It wasn’t just doing the laundry; it was knowing we were low on detergent. It was remembering the dentist appointment, planning the meals, buying the birthday gift. My husband would help when I asked, but the managing of it all was my job. I was the project manager of our lives, and I was drowning. The key to sharing it was making the invisible visible. We now have a shared family calendar and a physical whiteboard for tasks. If it’s not on the board, it’s no one’s responsibility.
I Love My Kids, But I Miss My Old Self. The Grief No One Talks About
I adored my children, but some days I felt a profound grief. I missed the woman I used to be—the one who could read a book uninterrupted, who could meet a friend for a spontaneous dinner, who had hobbies that weren’t child-related. The guilt for feeling this way was immense. I learned that this is a normal, unspoken part of motherhood. It is possible to love your new life with every fiber of your being and still grieve the freedom and identity of the life you left behind.
The “Default Parent” Syndrome and Why It Leads to Burnout
I was the “default parent.” If a child was sick, my phone rang. If a form needed signing, it landed on my desk. I was the go-to for every question, every need, every scraped knee. My husband was a wonderful, involved father, but the system had defaulted to me as the primary parent. This constant responsibility, this inability to ever be truly “off-duty,” led to a deep and pervasive burnout. It’s a syndrome that quietly erodes the mental health of mothers everywhere.
“Mom Guilt” is a Liar. Here Are the 5 Lies It Tells You
“Mom guilt” was a constant, toxic narrator in my head. It told me lies: 1. A good mom never gets angry. 2. You’re not spending enough quality time with them. 3. You’re selfish for wanting time to yourself. 4. You’re failing them by working/not working. 5. Other moms are handling this better than you are. I had to learn to recognize these lies for what they were—destructive fictions created by societal pressure and my own perfectionism. A good mom is a human mom, flaws and all.
The Day I Hid in the Bathroom Just to Be Alone for 5 Minutes
The kids were fighting, the TV was blaring, and my husband was asking me what was for dinner. The sensory overload was so intense I thought my head would explode. I walked into the bathroom, locked the door, sat on the floor, and just put my head in my hands. I wasn’t using the toilet or looking in the mirror. I was just hiding. I needed five minutes of absolute silence, a brief escape from being needed. That moment was a clear sign that I was completely overwhelmed and desperately needed a real break.
How My “Mom Rage” Was a Symptom of My Depression and Overwhelm
I was filled with a rage that I didn’t recognize. I would scream at my kids over a spilled drink, a raw, uncontrollable fury that left me shaking with shame afterward. This wasn’t me. I learned that this “mom rage” is often a key symptom of underlying depression and severe burnout. I was so touched-out, so overstimulated, so depleted of all my emotional resources, that I had no capacity left for patience. The rage was the desperate cry of a nervous system that was completely overwhelmed.
The Loneliness of Being a Stay-at-Home Mom
I was surrounded by my children all day, every day, yet I had never felt more lonely. My conversations were about cartoon characters and snack requests. I craved adult interaction, a conversation with someone who wouldn’t wipe their sticky hands on my shirt. The days were long and monotonous. The loneliness of being a stay-at-home mom is unique because it’s an isolation that happens in the presence of others. I was the center of my children’s universe, but I felt completely on the periphery of the adult world.
The Stress of Being a “Working Mom” and Failing at Everything
As a working mom, I felt like I was failing on two fronts simultaneously. At work, I felt guilty for leaving at 5 PM on the dot to get to daycare. I couldn’t attend the after-work networking events. At home, I felt guilty for being tired and distracted, for checking my work email when I should have been playing with my kids. I was stretched so thin that I felt I was doing a mediocre job at both my career and my motherhood. The pressure to be perfect in both realms was crushing.
The “Perfect Mom” on Instagram is a Myth. Let’s Unpack It
I would scroll through Instagram and see moms with spotless white kitchens, children in beautifully coordinated neutral outfits, and handcrafted organic snacks. Their lives looked so calm and beautiful. It made me feel like a failure. But that “perfect mom” is a myth. It’s a curated, filtered, and often monetized performance. She is not showing you the tantrum that happened two minutes before the photo, the pile of laundry just out of frame, or her own internal struggles. It’s a brand, not a reality.
How I Reclaimed My Identity After It Was Eclipsed by “Mom”
For years, my entire identity was “Mom.” I had forgotten who I was before I had children. Reclaiming my identity was an intentional act. I made a list of things I used to love, not “family activities.” I loved to paint. I signed up for a weekly pottery class. It was two hours a week that was just for me. It felt selfish at first, but reconnecting with my own passions and interests made me a happier, more fulfilled person, which in turn made me a better mother.
The “Fair Play” System That Saved My Marriage and My Sanity
I was drowning in the mental load, and my husband genuinely didn’t see all the invisible work I was doing. We read the book “Fair Play” by Eve Rodsky and implemented the system. We laid out all the cards representing every single household task, from “emptying the dishwasher” to “planning vacations.” Seeing the massive pile of cards I held was a lightbulb moment for him. We re-dealt the deck, giving him full ownership of certain tasks from conception to completion. It wasn’t about 50/50; it was about cognitive offloading.
Why I Started Scheduling “Me Time” Like a Doctor’s Appointment
I kept saying I needed “me time,” but it never happened. It was always the first thing to get pushed aside. I started treating it like a critical doctor’s appointment. I would put it in the shared family calendar: “Saturday 2-4 PM: Mom’s Time.” It was non-negotiable. My husband knew he was on duty. This simple act of scheduling it and treating it with the same importance as any other appointment was the only way I could protect that vital time for myself.
The Surprising Way My Kids’ “Sensory Overload” Was Triggering My Own
My nervous system was already frayed from depression and the mental load. When my kids would start fighting, the dog would start barking, and the TV would be blaring, it was a full-blown sensory assault. I would go from zero to one hundred on the rage scale. I realized their sensory chaos was triggering my own sensory overload. I started implementing “quiet time” for the whole family every afternoon—an hour where everyone had to be in their own space, reading or playing quietly. It saved us all.
How I Learned to “Drop the Ball” on Non-Essential Tasks
I was trying to be the perfect mom, the perfect wife, the perfect employee. I was trying to keep all the balls in the air, and it was breaking me. I had to learn to intentionally “drop the ball” on the things that didn’t truly matter. Does the laundry have to be folded perfectly? No. Do my kids need a home-cooked meal every single night? No. I gave myself permission to do less. Dropping the unimportant balls gave me the energy to keep the truly important ones in the air.
The Phrase “Enjoy Every Moment” is Toxic. Here’s Why
Well-meaning strangers would see me with my young children and say, “Enjoy every moment! It goes by so fast.” This phrase, while sweet, is toxic. It implies that if you are not enjoying the moment where your toddler is having a tantrum in the grocery store, you are failing. It adds a layer of guilt to the already difficult moments of motherhood. It’s okay, and normal, to not enjoy every moment. Some moments are just about survival.
The Day I Admitted I Didn’t Like Playing Barbies (And That’s Okay)
My daughter loved playing Barbies, and I would spend hours on the floor, bored out of my mind, forcing myself to do it because I thought that’s what a “good mom” does. I was resentful and disengaged. One day, I just admitted it. “You know, honey, playing Barbies isn’t my favorite, but I love watching YOU play. How about I read my book next to you while you play?” I learned that my kids don’t need me to be their playmate; they need me to be a present and authentic parent.
How to Parent When You’re an Introvert With Extroverted Kids
I am an introvert who needs quiet to recharge. I gave birth to two loud, energetic extroverts who thrive on constant interaction. It was a recipe for burnout. I had to create strategies to survive. We instituted a daily “quiet hour” where everyone played in their own rooms. I would also make sure I got small pockets of solitude, even if it was just sitting in my car for ten minutes after running an errand. I had to honor my own needs so I could have the energy to meet theirs.
The “Touch Overload” That Left Me Feeling Frayed and Overstimulated
By the end of the day, I felt like my skin was crawling. I had been touched all day—a baby on my hip, a toddler clinging to my leg, a nursing infant. It’s called “touch overload.” When my husband would then try to hug me in the evening, I would recoil. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him; it was that my nervous system was completely overstimulated. I had to explain this to him and ask for space in the evening so I could have my body back to myself.
How I Built My “Mom Village” From Scratch
I was lonely and desperately needed a “village.” I realized I had to build it myself. I started small. I made a point to chat with another mom at the park and then I took the scary step of saying, “Hey, can I get your number? Maybe we can meet up here again next week.” I started a group chat for the moms in my son’s preschool class. It was awkward and required a lot of initiative, but slowly, I pieced together a small but mighty village of women who “got it.”
The Surprising Grief of My Last Baby Becoming a Toddler
As my youngest child started walking, talking, and becoming more independent, I felt a surprising wave of grief. I was happy for her milestones, but I was also sad. I was grieving the end of the baby phase. I was grieving the loss of that intense, physical closeness. I was grieving the end of an era in my own life. It’s a strange, bittersweet grief that moms of “last babies” know well.
“Good Enough” Mothering: The Parenting Philosophy That Saved Me
I was killing myself trying to be the “perfect mother.” I read about the concept of the “good enough mother,” a term coined by a pediatrician. The idea is that children don’t need a perfect mother; they need a mother who is attuned and responsive enough of the time. They benefit from seeing a mother who makes mistakes and then repairs them. This philosophy gave me permission to be human. It took off the immense pressure of perfection and allowed me to just be a good enough, loving mom.
How I Handled My Child’s Tantrum When I Wanted to Have One Too
My toddler was having a full-blown meltdown on the floor of the supermarket. I was embarrassed, and my own nervous system was screaming. I wanted to have a tantrum too. I had to use my own “toddler management” skills on myself. I took a deep breath. I silently repeated a mantra: “This is not an emergency.” I focused on keeping my own body calm. I realized that my primary job in that moment was not to control his tantrum, but to control my own reaction.
The Financial Strain of Childcare and Its Mental Toll
The cost of childcare was more than our mortgage payment. The financial strain was a massive source of stress and anxiety in my life. I felt immense pressure to excel at work to justify the cost. I felt guilty for spending so much money just so I could go to a job. This is a real, significant, and often unspoken mental burden that working mothers carry. It’s not just a line item in a budget; it’s a source of constant, low-grade panic.
The Day I Hired a Babysitter So I Could Take a Nap
I was at my breaking point, completely exhausted from sleep deprivation. My husband was at work, and I was alone with the kids. I did something that felt radically indulgent: I hired a babysitter for three hours. I didn’t use the time to clean the house or run errands. I used it to take a long, uninterrupted nap. The one hundred dollars it cost felt like the best money I had ever spent. It was a crucial investment in my own sanity.
How to Co-Parent With a Partner Who Doesn’t See the “Invisible Work”
My husband was a great dad, but he was blind to the “invisible work” I did—the planning, the scheduling, the remembering. This led to a lot of resentment. We had to make the invisible visible. We created a shared digital to-do list and a family calendar. We had a weekly “family meeting” to review the upcoming week’s logistics. It wasn’t about nagging; it was about creating shared systems that made the mental load a shared responsibility, not just mine.
The Anxiety of School Pick-Up Lines and “Mom Cliques”
The school pick-up line felt like a scene from “Mean Girls.” There were established “mom cliques,” and I felt like a total outsider. I would be filled with a familiar, high-school-level social anxiety. I had to give myself a simple mission: make eye contact and smile at one other mom. That’s it. This small, manageable goal helped me break through my anxiety and slowly start to form my own connections, one friendly face at a time.
My “Post-Bedtime” Routine That’s Just For Me
After the kids were finally asleep, I used to just collapse on the couch and scroll on my phone. I felt depleted. I created a new “post-bedtime” routine that was intentionally for me. It was my time to refill my own cup. The routine was simple: make a cup of herbal tea, put on some calming music, and read a book for thirty minutes. This small ritual signaled the end of my “mom” duties and the beginning of my time to just be a person.
The Surprising Way My Depression Affected My Kids
I thought I was hiding my depression from my kids. But they knew. My five-year-old son became more anxious and clingy. My daughter became more quiet and withdrawn. They were like little emotional barometers, reacting to the storm they could feel in the house, even if they couldn’t name it. I realized my mental health wasn’t just about me; it was directly impacting their sense of safety and well-being. Getting help for myself was one of the most important things I could do for them.
How I Apologized to My Children After I Lost My Cool
I had yelled at my kids, and I could see the hurt and fear on their faces. The shame was immense. Later, when I was calm, I brought them both together. I got down on their level and said, “I am so sorry that I yelled. Mommy was having some very big, angry feelings, but it was not okay for me to use a scary voice. I am working on handling my big feelings in a better way.” I took full ownership, I didn’t make excuses, and I modeled how to apologize sincerely.
The “Single Mom” Juggle and the Crushing Weight of Doing It All
As a single mom, I was the default parent, the sole provider, the cook, the cleaner, the everything. There was no one to tag in when I was sick or exhausted. The weight of doing it all, with no safety net, was a source of constant, crushing stress and anxiety. I learned that my most crucial skill was not multitasking, but building a “village” of support—friends, family, other single moms—who I could lean on. I couldn’t do it all, and I had to learn to ask for help.
The Day I Let My Kids Be Bored
I used to feel like it was my job to be my children’s cruise director, constantly planning activities and entertaining them. It was exhausting. One Saturday, I just stopped. I told them, “I’m not planning anything today. You can figure out what you want to do.” They complained for about twenty minutes. And then, a miracle happened. They started to invent their own games. They built a fort. They put on a play. I realized that boredom is not an enemy; it’s the fertile ground where creativity and independence are born.
The “Comparison Trap” at the Playground
I would be at the playground, and my “comparison” brain would go into overdrive. That mom’s kid is already reading. That mom packed a healthier snack. That mom looks so much more put-together than I do. It was a silent, toxic competition that I was having in my own head. I had to learn to put on my blinders. I would intentionally focus only on my own child. What are they enjoying? What do they need from me right now? This brought me back to the present and out of the comparison trap.
How I Explained My “Sad Days” to My Young Children
My kids started to notice my “sad days,” the days I couldn’t get off the couch. I decided to give them a simple, non-scary language for it. I said, “You know how your body has energy some days and feels tired other days? Well, Mommy’s brain is like that too. Today is a ‘low-battery’ day for my brain. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It just means I need to rest and recharge.” This helped them understand it wasn’t their fault and it wasn’t permanent.
The Surprising Benefits of a “Minimalist” Approach to Toys and Activities
Our house was overflowing with plastic toys. Our schedule was packed with activities. It was all contributing to my sense of overwhelm. I adopted a minimalist approach. We donated two-thirds of the toys. The kids actually played more creatively with less. We cut back to just one extracurricular activity per child. The extra white space on our calendar was a gift. It gave our family time to just be together, without the constant rushing and pressure.
The Guilt of Wanting a Career Outside of Motherhood
I loved my children fiercely, but a part of me deeply missed my career. I missed the adult conversations, the intellectual challenges, the feeling of competence. The guilt I felt for wanting something more than “just” motherhood was immense. I felt like I was being a selfish, bad mother. I had to learn that my desire for a career didn’t diminish my love for my children. It just meant that I was a multi-faceted person, and that was okay.
How I Reconnected With My Partner After We Became “Just Parents”
For the first few years of our kids’ lives, my husband and I were just co-workers running a chaotic, 24/7 business called “Family Inc.” We had stopped being partners. To reconnect, we had to be intentional. We hired a babysitter one night a month. The only rule for our date was that we weren’t allowed to talk about the kids or household logistics. It was awkward at first, but it was a crucial practice that helped us remember who we were as a couple.
The Day I Stopped Making “Pinterest-Worthy” Lunches
I used to spend way too much time cutting my kids’ sandwiches into cute shapes and arranging their snacks into bento-box masterpieces. I was trying to live up to some “Pinterest-Worthy” ideal of motherhood. One morning, I was exhausted, and I just threw a sandwich, a bag of carrots, and an apple into a lunchbox. My son ate it without complaint. I realized he didn’t care about the presentation; he just wanted to not be hungry. I freed myself from the tyranny of Pinterest.
The Physical Exhaustion That’s More Than Just Lack of Sleep
Yes, I was sleep-deprived. But the exhaustion I felt as a mother was more than that. It was the physical toll of constantly being “on,” of carrying a toddler, of managing a household. It was the emotional exhaustion of regulating a small child’s big feelings all day. It was the mental exhaustion of the never-ending “mental load.” This wasn’t just tiredness; it was a deep, systemic depletion that came from every facet of my being.
How I Learned to Ask For and Accept Help
I was raised to be self-sufficient, and asking for help felt like a massive failure. I was drowning, but I wouldn’t even admit I was in the water. I had to learn, out of sheer desperation, to ask. I started small. I asked my husband, “Can you please be in charge of bath time tonight?” When a friend said, “Let me know if you need anything,” I learned to respond with a specific request: “Actually, could you pick up a gallon of milk for me?” Learning to accept help was a superpower.
The Surprising Joy I Found When I Let Go of Control
I used to micromanage everything—my kids’ schedules, my husband’s parenting style, the cleanliness of the house. My need for control was a response to my own inner anxiety. It was also making me miserable. I started to intentionally let go. I let my husband dress the kids in mismatched outfits. I let the living room be messy for a day. The world did not, in fact, fall apart. And in letting go of that constant, tense grip, I found a surprising sense of peace and freedom.
My “Family Meeting” Strategy for Delegating Chores
The household chores were falling entirely on me, and I was deeply resentful. We instituted a weekly “Family Meeting” on Sunday nights. We’d make it fun, with snacks. We had a whiteboard with all the weekly chores listed. We would go through the list and everyone, even the five-year-old, would choose a few age-appropriate tasks to be responsible for that week. It turned chore delegation from a nagging session into a collaborative, team-building activity.
The Unspoken Challenges of Raising a Child with Special Needs
When my son was diagnosed with autism, our parenting journey took a sharp turn. There were endless appointments with specialists, IEP meetings at school, and the constant stress of navigating a world not designed for him. There was also a deep, quiet grief for the “normal” parenting experience I thought I would have. The mental load was immense, the isolation was real, and my own mental health became a casualty of the beautiful, difficult reality of being a special needs mom.
How I Carved Out a “Sacred Space” in My Home That Was Just Mine
The entire house felt like it belonged to the family. I had no space that was just mine. I claimed a small corner of our bedroom. I put a comfortable reading chair there, a small bookshelf with my favorite books, and a good lamp. I declared it a “no-kids-allowed” zone. This tiny, sacred space was my sanctuary. It was where I could go for ten minutes to read, to breathe, to just be a person, not a mom.
The Day I Realized My Child’s Happiness Wasn’t Entirely My Responsibility
I was obsessed with my child’s happiness. If she was sad or frustrated, I saw it as my failure. I was constantly trying to fix her feelings. This was exhausting and ineffective. I had a breakthrough when I realized my job wasn’t to make her happy; my job was to love her and support her through all of her feelings, including the difficult ones. Her happiness was her own journey. My responsibility was to give her the tools to navigate it, not to pave the road for her.
The “I Don’t Know What I Want” Feeling After Years of Prioritizing Others
After years of my life revolving around my children’s needs, my husband’s career, and the household’s demands, I had a terrifying realization: I had no idea what I wanted anymore. My own desires and interests had been on the back burner for so long that they had completely faded away. When I finally had some free time, I didn’t even know what to do with it. It was a slow process of rediscovery, of dating myself again to figure out who I was outside of my roles.
How I Fell in Love With My Hobbies Again
Before kids, I loved to paint. After kids, my supplies gathered dust for years. I decided to try to fall in love with it again. I couldn’t spend a whole day painting, so I started with just fifteen minutes. I would set a timer and just mess around with the colors. I had to let go of the pressure to create something “good.” The goal was just to enjoy the process. Slowly, that spark came back. Reconnecting with that creative part of myself was like coming home.
The Power of Saying “No” to the PTA Bake Sale
I was already stretched thin when the email came asking for volunteers for the PTA bake sale. The old me, the people-pleasing me, would have said “yes” immediately. The new me took a deep breath and typed, “Thank you so much for thinking of me! Unfortunately, I can’t commit to that right now.” That simple “no” was a radical act of self-preservation. It was me choosing my own sanity over the fear of disappointing someone else. And you know what? The bake sale happened anyway.
The Friendship Shifts That Happen After You Have Kids
After I had my son, my friendships went through a major earthquake. My child-free friends didn’t understand why I couldn’t go out for late-night drinks anymore. Some friendships faded away. But new, deeper friendships were formed with other moms who were “in the trenches” with me. We could have a whole conversation via text message at 3 AM during a late-night feeding. The landscape of my friendships shifted from quantity to quality, from social to survival.
A Letter to the Mom Who Feels Like She’s Drowning
To the mom who is reading this from the bathroom floor, hiding from her family: I see you. You are not a bad mom. You are a human being who is stretched to her absolute limit. The overwhelm is real. The rage is a symptom, not a character flaw. The desire to just be alone does not mean you don’t love your children. You are a good mom who is having a hard time. Please, be as kind to yourself as you are to your kids. You deserve that compassion.
You Can Be a Great Mom and Still Be a Person
For a long time, I thought being a “great mom” meant complete self-sacrifice. My needs, my desires, my identity—they all had to be sacrificed at the altar of motherhood. I learned that this is a lie. The best thing I can do for my children is to model what it looks like to be a whole, fulfilled, and happy person. That means having my own hobbies, my own friends, my own life. You can be a great mom and still be a person. In fact, you have to be.