Navigating motherhood when everything feels like too much

Abby G.

Being a mother at any stage of raising children is beautiful and it's also difficult. We're told to enjoy every moment from our kiddos' infancy on, and there is quite a lot that is simply not enjoyable. We're held to standards in terms of skill and ability that others are not, and we simply do not always have all the answers. At the same time, we're told what our bodies are supposed to look like, what our kids are supposed to eat and enjoy, and how they're supposed to behave. We also maybe have full time jobs, and households to run, and even with the most supportive partners, motherhood can be exhausting. I have 12 and 10 year old kiddos, and they are the greatest humans in the world. And also, being a mom is hard work. The baby years, the toddler years, the tween years! It's all a lot to navigate (and throw in perimenopause!) and can get really exhausting and frustrating. We have navigated a lot of ups and downs, and my family are my favorite people in the world, and also I feel overwhelmed sometimes and need to talk to someone else who gets it.

The grief of motherhood.

Abby G.

Motherhood is full of joy, and there can also be a lot of grief that comes with this role. No one has to die or get sick in order to experience it. I have found that motherhood for me involves grief around my own sense of self and identity, my kiddos getting older and changing before my eyes, dreams deferred or never realized and many other things that pile up into a little heap of grief. None of this makes us bad parents! It makes us completely human. I was told over and over to enjoy every moment, and I also have had a lot of challenges in doing so because there are quite a few aspects of parenting that aren't that enjoyable. None of that means we don't love our kiddos or would change them for anything! But being a mom means having to expand my capacity to hold both joy and grief so I can experience my own life and my kids in a true and authentic way. I've learned it's ok to have grief around motherhood. We give a lot of ourselves to others so that they can become their truest selves, too! I think talking with other moms about how life feels sometimes is really helpful for me, and I don't feel judged or shamed. We deserve to experience all of our emotions, even as moms!

Grieving the loss of a parent

Abby G.

By the time I was 31, both of my parents had passed away. My dad died of cancer when I was 21 and my mom died in her sleep one night in early September 2009. I had just gotten engaged and we'd just chatted on the phone a couple of nights before and she was gone. I found myself navigating adulthood without parents and I felt untethered and unmoored. Facing a future, even facing getting married and starting a whole new chapter of my life without my mom by my side was terrifying and grief-filled. Adulthood without my mom has been different than the adulthood I envisioned. I was a very late in life baby for my dad, so there weren't as many expectations that he'd still be here as I moved towards middle age (he'd be 103 to my 47!), but I had always pictured my mom nearby as I navigated life, career, marriage, and parenting. The grief of the first years she was gone was immense and loudly present. As I age, the grief is still there, but it changes it weight and shape as I change, too. I'd be happy to talk through parent-loss and all the ripple effects it has on our lives if you're looking for someone who understands.

Female friendships, from sisterhood to tension and everything in between

Christine D.

Female friendships can be soul-healing, laughter-filled, ride-or-die bonds. But let’s be real—they can also be intense, confusing, and sometimes heartbreaking. There’s a deep emotional language we speak with other women—one that’s shaped by closeness, comparison, loyalty, competition, and care. And when that bond cracks, it cuts deep. I’ve had female friendships that felt like home—and some that left me questioning my worth. I’ve been the friend who gave too much. I’ve been the one who pulled away. I’ve felt jealous, left out, deeply connected, and deeply hurt. No one taught me how to navigate all of that. We’re often told to “support each other,” but not how to deal with the unspoken expectations, silent treatments, or moments where it feels like love and envy are tangled together. Over time, I’ve learned how to unpack those dynamics—how to name what I feel, communicate better, forgive where I can, and honor when it’s time to walk away. Female friendships are layered and sacred. They deserve care and conversation, not just assumptions and silence. If you’ve ever felt confused by your friendships with women—too close, not close enough, triggered, adored, betrayed, or bonded in ways you can’t explain—you’re not alone. Let’s talk about it.

Learning to parent after surviving a mother’s abuse

Dian L.

My first lesson in motherhood was what not to do. I was physically and emotionally abused by my own mom. At 12, I told DCFS what was happening and became a ward of the state. My mom fought to get my brothers back, but not me. I bounced between survival and silence, numbing the pain with hard drugs until I was 26. That’s when I found out I was pregnant, and I checked into Haymarket treatment center in Chicago the next day. I’ve been clean ever since. I had no idea how to be a mom. I’d never even held a steady job before that moment. But I knew I had to give my son the life I never had. From day one, I poured love into him like it was oxygen. Every milestone I was robbed of, I made sure he got every birthday party, every I-love-you, every night I tucked him in with prayer. He’s now 16, and I’ve raised him completely on my own. I never had a mother, but I became one. If you’re figuring out how to parent while healing from deep wounds, I’m here. You don’t have to carry it alone.

Breaking the pattern of being the fixer in relationships

Jennifer F.

I’m 52, single, never married, and don’t have kids—all by choice. Over the years, I’ve been in many relationships, and I’ve done a lot of deep self-work. One of the biggest patterns I uncovered was my tendency to be the nurturer—the fixer. I would give and give, thinking love meant saving someone else. Eventually, I realized that in trying to save others, I was losing myself. That shift—putting myself first—changed everything. Now, I focus on building balanced relationships where both people show up equally. I’ve never followed traditional timelines or societal expectations, and I’m okay with that. I know how isolating it can feel when the world tells you that you're supposed to be something else. But I’ve found a lot of peace—and even joy—in writing my own story. I’ve also helped friends reframe their own beliefs, especially around what it means to be alone or fulfilled. I’m not here to give all the answers, but I ask really good questions that can help you find your own.

Navigating postpartum depression and anxiety

Kathryn D.

When my son was born, I thought the hard part was over. But what I didn’t expect was how much harder the emotional side would hit me. Sleep deprivation, hormonal shifts, and a sudden sense of loneliness made every day feel overwhelming. I had struggled with anxiety and depression before, but postpartum felt like an entirely different world. Therapy helped, but what made the biggest difference was learning to be patient and kind to myself, especially when friends and family weren’t always there in the way I needed. The experience opened my eyes to things I had never experienced before, and now I want to share what I’ve learned. I want to help other new moms feel less alone and remind them that it’s okay to ask for help, set boundaries, and put their mental health first.

Becoming a first-time mom and navigating co-parenting alone

Lara P.

I’ve always been someone who feels deeply. Even as a kid, I was drawn to people who were hurting and wanted to help them feel seen and safe. That instinct became even stronger when I became a mom—something that happened earlier for me than for most of my friends. I was the first in my group to have a child, and while I was filled with love, I also had so many questions. There were moments I felt completely alone, unsure if I was doing things “right,” and honestly, sometimes embarrassed that I didn’t have it all figured out. Co-parenting added another layer of complexity, and there were days when I felt like I was carrying it all by myself. But those tough times taught me how to trust my own instincts, to be gentle with myself, and to lean into the support I do have. Now, I offer that same non-judgmental support to others, because no one should feel alone in figuring this out.

Staying sober when you don’t connect with AA

Laura A.

When I first entered treatment in 2019, I assumed AA was the only way to stay sober. But something didn’t feel right for me in those rooms. I respected the program, and I still do, but I never quite felt like I belonged. I couldn’t connect with the language or the structure, and it made me question whether I was “doing recovery right.” At the same time, I was untangling my identity as a mother. I had spent years as a stay-at-home mom after leaving a long government career, and somewhere along the way, I lost sight of who I was outside of being someone’s wife or mom. My recovery had to start with learning to like me again, not just the caretaker, but the woman underneath. I leaned into therapy, behavioral work, and alternative supports, giving myself permission to build something that worked for me. I’m now five years into sustained recovery, and I’ve learned that sobriety isn’t one-size-fits-all. Today, as a recovery coach, I support others who feel out of place in traditional spaces. You’re not broken. There’s more than one way to heal and you get to define it.

Navigating the challenges of becoming a mom while supporting a partner’s health struggles

Naomi D.

Becoming a mom was nothing like I expected. My pregnancy was rough, both physically and emotionally. I was navigating the ups and downs of that while also supporting my husband, who was struggling with health issues. For two years, he was dealing with seizures, and it felt like I was shouldering everything—pregnancy, his health, and the anxiety of it all. When our daughter was born, it wasn’t the joyous occasion I had imagined. I struggled with postpartum depression and found myself feeling lost. I didn’t know who I was anymore, and I had this deep sense of being alone in everything. It was tough to adjust to motherhood while trying to be strong for my husband too. But eventually, with the support of family, therapy, and taking things one day at a time, I found my way back to myself. Now, I want to help others who feel overwhelmed or lost in this journey—especially when it feels like everything is on your shoulders.

Rediscovering your identity after motherhood

Sami C.

For years, my identity was wrapped up in being “Mom.” I loved raising my two kids—and still do—but I reached a point where I barely recognized myself outside of who I was for them. As they grew more independent and eventually left for college, I had to rediscover what brought me joy, what dreams I had set aside, and who I was apart from parenting. That journey included grief, growth, and learning to give myself permission to dream again. Now, I help other women reconnect with their passions, purpose, and confidence—even while still being great moms.

Navigating single parenting with strength and self-trust

Sarita B.

Becoming a mother was unexpected, but stepping into the role was a conscious choice, even knowing I would be doing it alone. For the past 6½ years, I’ve raised my son as a solo parent, learning how to carry both the beauty and the burden of parenting without a partner. The early days were especially difficult. I often felt isolated from family, friends, and even society as I confronted the stigmas and the sheer weight of responsibility. Time, resources, and support felt limited, and the emotional load was heavy. But single parenting has also transformed me. I’ve learned to advocate for myself in ways I never did before - at work, in my family, and in my relationships. I’ve made hard decisions that reflect my values, not others’ expectations, and that shift has made me stronger and more focused. In the process, I’ve discovered a deeper love; one that gives me the strength to push through even the most stressful moments. Some of the biggest turning points came when I stopped trying to live up to outside standards of “good parenting.” I took time away to reflect on what I truly wanted from this life and decided to pursue a path that reflected who we are, not what we were told to be. One of those moments came when I saw my son being left out on a school playground. That was when I knew we had to do things differently. Since then, we’ve embraced our unique rhythm as a family. This rhythm is one that includes rituals, values, nature, chosen family, and plenty of honesty. I’ve learned that single parenting doesn’t have to mean doing everything alone - it can mean doing it intentionally, and together.

Postpartum

Vanessa S.

After I had my baby, I felt like I was supposed to be glowing, full of love, and endlessly grateful. But the truth? I felt like I was falling apart. I was exhausted in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. I cried when no one was looking. I felt anxious, overwhelmed, and so ashamed for not feeling what I thought I was “supposed” to feel. I loved my baby. I didn’t love the way I felt inside. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. Some days, I didn’t even recognize the person staring back in the mirror. The guilt, the fear, the pressure to hold it all together. I kept pretending I was fine, while quietly unraveling. Eventually, I cracked. And that’s when the healing started, not by being “strong” but by being honest. I started talking to other moms who had been through it. They didn’t judge me. They just nodded, held space, and let me cry. And that was everything. Postpartum is hard. Being a mother is beautiful, yes, but it can also be lonely, messy, and heartbreaking. And if you’re in that place right now, I want you to know you’re not broken. You’re not a bad mom. You’re just human and you deserve support.

Parenting with compassion and creating a stress free environment for your children

Vicky K.

Ever since I was a child, my dream was to be a stay-at-home mom. When I finally had kids, I loved them deeply, but I quickly realized parenting was much tougher than I had imagined. I carried high expectations into motherhood, shaped by a culture where achievements were praised and kids were often compared to others. I expected a lot from my children and, without meaning to, placed a heavy burden on them. This led to frustration, tension, and a lot of anger that I didn’t know how to manage at first. Over time, through self-reflection and a real desire to change, I learned to recognize the harm my anger was causing and worked hard to rebuild trust and connection with my kids. Our relationships are so much stronger now, and I am grateful every day for the second chance I created by showing up differently. I’d love to walk alongside anyone else who wants to repair and strengthen their bond with their children.