Just A Mom Trying

I am already crying before I type this. This one has my heart in it. I hope you feel it, and I sincerely wish for you to walk away feeling better. I know this post is long. Why though? Because this is an important topic and I couldn’t bear to leave anything unsaid. I think every word is important in this one. Please stick with me.

I am pretty certain we all have some internal bruises from motherhood. I named this blog Just A Mom Trying because it was the first thing that popped up on my mind, and I really felt it. Though some say that ‘just trying’ isn’t good enough. Yet, sometimes ‘just trying’ is too much. No matter what stage of parenting you are in, there are struggles. Yes, it is rewarding, but right now, we’re going to focus on the not so pretty side of it.

Let me start off by saying: You are not alone. I see you. There are moms that are hurting just like you right now, and it is completely valid for you to be hurting. Life is hard.

Everyone is delt a different deck of cards and told to play the game. I think some are delt a completely different set of cards to a different game, but they are meant to make it work with this one. This is why we all need a village.

We’re not meant to do it all on our own. The invisible mental load, on the outside it looks like dinner on the table, kids seemingly well-adjusted, the house (mostly) standing. But in the back of your mind is the constant noise of every single task needing remembered. It’s there all day and night long. Like the stalker BFF you didn’t ask for. It’s exhausting.

I could lay it all out for you, all the tasks and lists that need remembered, but honestly, you know how it goes. No need to pull out the yardsticks and compare mental loads; we’re all carrying a mountain.

This constant pressure is more than exhausting. It hurts. It leaves scars and bruises on our hearts and souls. It sucks a little bit of joy away with each jab. What’s left standing? A shell of a woman with a mask to hide it all, to keep the burden from others. On the inside, it’s a hollow mess, a war zone.

It leaves a woman crying out in rage for help; but silently from the protection of her own bathroom with tears streaming down her face. All for her to wipe it all away, fix her mask, and pick up the load again. She desperately wants to hand off even a tiny fraction of this responsibility, but even when there is a spouse, that doesn’t mean there is a partner. This brings more pain, frustration, and resentment.

Then comes the critiques of those “should be partners”. With it, comes shame and guilt. The thoughts of, “I should be able to do all of this and not need help. Other women do this and more, why can’t I?”

Those self sabotaging thoughts keep coming. They pile as high as the mental load. The hits keep coming from every direction. Soon you find yourself drowning or barely grasping at the surface. It feels like there is no life preserver around. It seems tempting to slip under and let it all go. At least then, there would be no more feeling on your end. Except it would bring those you carry this load for under as well.

I see you.

This is a deep, dark place. It leaves you raw and susceptible. In these moments, our own self-compassion can be a powerful life preserver. You’ve heard that whisper, haven’t you? The one that tells you you need to do more, be more, constantly have it all together. Let’s silence that whisper for a moment. Know that it’s perfectly fine to lower the bar. That good enough really is good enough, especially now.

This isn’t about settling for less; it’s about embracing grace and peace and finding release from constant pressure. Good enough is being kind and gentle with yourself. It’s about allowing space for healing and finding a moment, even a fleeting one, to simply exist in a gentle place. It’s understanding that everything will be ok, even if it’s not perfect. Things are truly ok waiting. Things are ok not being done perfectly. It’s a moment to just be.

Knowing that good enough is your powerful life preserver opens the door to something truly transformative: micro-moments of self-compassion. These aren’t grand gestures; they’re tiny, intentional acts of kindness you show yourself throughout the day. It might be pausing for three deep breaths when you feel overwhelmed, choosing the easiest dinner option without guilt, or simply acknowledging, ‘This is hard, and I’m doing my best.’

It’s about consistently choosing grace for yourself and even grace for your children when they inevitably act up or throw fits, not understanding the invisible weight you carry. Remember, you’re wearing that mask, and they’re simply being kids. It’s about letting go of the relentless pursuit of perfection and embracing compassion in every way possible.

But even with this newfound self-compassion, the invisible load can still feel like too much. It’s a heavy, constant companion, and while inner grace helps us bear it, you are not meant to carry this much weight alone. This is exactly where your village comes in.

It’s about those who support you, those who understand the silent battles, those who truly see your struggle, those you desperately look for in every second of the day when you’re screaming for help. And for many, this community we’re building here can be the first genuine and safe place to reach out, especially if you don’t have a physical ‘village’ to lean on just yet.

With your village, you can actively shed some of this burden – share tasks, ask for help without shame, and lean on each other to lighten the load. Recognizing that asking for help isn’t a sign of failure, but a powerful testament to your strength and wisdom, is crucial. It means finally putting down some of that weight.

As you embrace good enough, practice these micro-moments of self-compassion, and actively lean into your village, this is how we begin to redefine success – a definition not built on accomplishing endless tasks on a to-do list or outward perfection, and certainly not on other people’s opinions. Instead, it’s about what’s truly possible in this moment, with what you have, for you and your family. It’s about your well-being, your peace, and the lasting joy you find in motherhood.

You don’t have to carry this mountain alone anymore. Start with a micro-moment, reach for your village, and remember: you are seen and you are valued.

Your turn: Build Our Village

If you have found ways to navigate the invisible load, embrace ‘good enough’, or effectively lean on your village, we want to hear from you. Your wisdom is invaluable. Share your best advice, tips, or words of encouragement in the comments below, so we can all learn and grow together.

This is how our village truly thrives.