Motherhood has always seemed like this wild mix of beauty and struggle to me, but nothing prepared me for the way it would change how I view my own body. Between endless chores, toddler tantrums, and nights without sleep, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. My daily checklist is longer than a grocery receipt; meals, laundry, work, playtime, and the random request for a pink cup instead of a blue one. At the end of those days, just the thought of playing cars or building towers makes me want to sink onto the couch and disappear.
How Heavy Expectations Taught Me to Judge Myself
When my kids were little, I spent way too much time scrolling through social media. It was like watching some never-ending highlight reel of mothers in spotless kitchens, smiling over perfect pancakes. These images convinced me that real moms weren’t supposed to feel tired or frustrated or want a break from playing with their kids.
I compared myself to every cheerful influencer, secretly judging my messy house and my body that no longer looked anything like it did before motherhood. It left me feeling guilty for wanting a second alone and ashamed that I craved more from life than just being someone’s snack maker or laundry folder. I thought if I just tried a little harder, I’d magically start enjoying playtime after a long day. When I couldn’t, the guilt doubled down: not a good enough mom, not a good enough woman, not a good enough me.
The Trap of Pushing Through
Growing up, I learned to push through tiredness and stuff my feelings away. My own mom and grandma always seemed to carry the weight of the family in silence; no complaints, just moving from one task to the next. That’s what I thought strength was. But motherhood cracked that idea wide open and left me rethinking everything I knew.
I kept trying to be the mom who was available and cheerful no matter what, even when my own feelings were screaming for attention. If I did share my struggles, I brushed it off with jokes or downplayed it, thinking that voicing my real emotions made me look weak. The reality? Ignoring my feelings and connecting with my kids on autopilot only left me more stressed and distant. Burying everything wasn’t working for me; it just wasn’t sustainable, and more cracks were starting to show.
Chasing Real Connections, Breaking Old Patterns
I knew I wanted something different for my kids. I didn’t want to keep repeating the cycle of emotional repression. I dreamed of a strong connection with them, one that felt honest and safe for us all. Pretending to connect or hiding sadness behind a smile just didn’t add up. Over time, I started to notice how my kids reacted differently when I let myself be genuine, even on tough days. They seemed calmer, more understanding, and our bond felt stronger.
Eventually, I realized building that kind of connection meant looking at my own emotional habits. It took some outside guidance and a big push out of my comfort zone to make it happen. That’s how I got into the world of conscious parenting and emotional awareness. The more I dug into this approach, the more I saw room for kindness in our home—even if everything didn’t look picture perfect.
Letting Myself Off the Hook and Asking for Help
One of the biggest lessons I picked up was that it’s totally fine to ask for help. For a long time, I believed a “good mom” could handle everything on her own. But when I finally started telling my partner I needed a break, things got easier. Sometimes, I even hired a sitter or swapped kid watching time with a friend. That little bit of space to recharge made me a better mom when I came back.
It sounds so basic, but getting that personal time worked wonders. Stepping away from the full throttle demands of parenting reminded me that I deserved care, too. When I took that time, I found myself having more patience, and I was able to show up for my kids in a way that felt genuine instead of forced. Honestly, letting go of the guilt and giving myself permission to rest made the whole adventure of parenting feel less heavy; I finally realized that my well being matters for my family, not just for me.
Connection Doesn’t Have to Be Perfect
For a while, I thought my kids needed me to constantly play or invent elaborate activities. But the truth is, connection is often about simple, shared moments; a quiet snuggle on the couch, reading the same favorite book for the tenth time, or working side by side on boring household chores. When I stopped forcing the big, “Instagram worthy” play and let go of my guilt, I started enjoying motherhood a lot more.
Some days, I still have zero energy for make believe games or noisy activities. So I’ll invite my kids to help me fold towels or let them sit near me while I work. We talk, laugh, or just hang out together. These moments feel way less pressure filled and more honest than anything I could force myself to do when I’m drained. That authenticity is what makes us close.
Teaching My Kids What Emotional Awareness Looks Like
Something unexpected happened as I got better at naming and caring for my own feelings. My kids started picking up those skills, too. If I said out loud, “I’m feeling a little overwhelmed right now, so I need a break,” they learned that it’s normal to have emotions and to listen to what they need.
This wasn’t just about me; it became about giving them tools I never had as a child. I want my children to see self care and emotional honesty as important parts of life, not something to feel weird or ashamed about. If I hope they’ll accept themselves and grow up resilient, showing that in everyday life feels pretty important.
Now, when one of my children is upset, I ask what they need instead of immediately rushing to fix it. We talk about feelings openly, and I share stories from my day, too. It’s helped us build trust and understanding between us, creating a home where everyone’s emotions are respected—not just tolerated.
Pushing Back Against Social Media Myths
After a while, I stopped believing the stories I saw online about perfect moms. Real motherhood is way messier. There are days when everyone eats frozen pizza and no one wants to talk to each other by bedtime. There are also days filled with laughter, silly faces, and those tiny hands reaching for mine. Ignoring the polished posts and filters lets me feel better about the full picture of my own life.
When I let myself see past the highlight reels, I started to truly appreciate my own adventure. The everyday mess and chaos suddenly felt like part of our story, not something to hide from or be ashamed about. Instead of comparing, I focused on celebrating our unique rhythm. That shift made all the difference in my confidence and my sense of belonging within my own family.
Embracing Imperfection and Joy
My relationship with my body and myself is a work in progress. Parenthood showed me all sorts of so called flaws: stretch marks, tired eyes, a changing shape, and a mind that’s sometimes all over the place. But I’m learning this is the body that carried my babies, hugged them through tantrums, and stretched to love in ways I never knew before.
It doesn’t need to look like anyone else’s. My self worth isn’t tied to fitting an impossible standard. These days, I work on embracing imperfection, finding small balances, and treating myself with the same kindness I want my kids to learn. Some days are smoother than others, but that’s the real joy of it all; knowing I don’t need to be perfect to be happy or connected. Each moment, even the imperfect ones, count in shaping who we are together.
Frequently Asked Questions
Question: What if I feel guilty for not knowing how to play with my kids?
Answer: Feeling that way is really common, and it doesn’t make you a bad parent. It usually means you’re tired or need a break. Connecting with your kids can happen in all sorts of ways, not just through traditional play. One great option is exercising together — it’s a healthy, productive way to spend time and keeps both you and your kids active and engaged. Whether it’s a fun dance session in the living room, a walk around the block, or a short home workout, moving together can be a great way to bond without the pressure of “play” as usual.
Question: How can I explain my feelings to my children without upsetting them?
Answer: I find it helpful to use simple, honest language. Saying something like, “I’m a little tired right now, so I need to rest for a bit,” helps them understand it’s normal to have needs and emotions, and that self care is important for everyone.
This post really hit home for me. I’ve often felt that same pressure to keep it all together to smile through exhaustion and pretend the chaos doesn’t bother me. The way you described the emotional patterns passed down through generations was especially powerful. I’m also trying to unlearn the idea that strength means silence, and your words were a comforting reminder that being honest about our struggles is a kind of strength too.
The idea of letting go of guilt and stepping away to recharge really spoke to me. I still wrestle with that voice that says I should be able to “do it all,” but seeing how prioritizing your well-being strengthened your bond with your kids makes me want to lean into that more myself. It feels like permission to be human again.
Thank you for your honesty and vulnerability. It reminded me that motherhood isn’t about perfection, but presence. Do you have any simple self-care habits or rituals you return to on those really hard days that help you reset emotionally?
Hello Kavitha
On those really hard days, I lean into a few small, grounding rituals. One is simply stepping outside barefoot and taking a few deep breaths—just connecting to the earth and my breath reminds me that I’m still here, still human, and still enough.
I also keep a playlist of songs that lift me up emotionally (even if it means dancing in the kitchen while the laundry piles up!). And sometimes it’s as simple as a cup of tea in silence or jotting down three things I’m grateful for—even if one of them is “I didn’t scream today.”
Thank you again for taking the time to write and share your heart. Keep leaning into that truth that presence, not perfection, is what our families really need most.
Sending you a big virtual hug and all the grace on your journey
Warmly
Aivaras