Lately, I’ve been hearing the same thing from so many mom friends:
"I’m anxious all the time."
"I’m tired but I can’t stop."
"I feel guilty when I rest, but I’m falling apart inside."
And I get it — not because I have it all together, but because I’ve lived it.
I’m not the kind of mom who thrives in a spotless kitchen or finds joy in planning meals or organizing drawers. I don’t bake. I don’t scrapbook. I don’t always remember to fold the laundry right away.
But I show up.
Even when I’m mentally falling apart, I smile. I hug. I answer questions, pack bags, attend events, and hold my children when they need me — all while quietly holding myself together the best I can.
For the longest time, I thought that made me “Supermom.”
Because I kept going.
Because I showed up no matter what.
Because I looked happy on the outside, even when I wasn’t okay inside.
But that version of “Supermom” almost broke me.
The Lie of the Supermom
We don’t talk enough about how damaging the expectations are — not just the ones placed on us, but the ones we place on ourselves. That we have to do it all. Be it all. Hold it all together. Smile through the cracks.
We glorify pushing through. We idolize resilience, but only the kind that looks graceful. We don’t celebrate the moms who say, “I need help.” Or the ones who fall apart — because they’re still human underneath the cape.
I used to think rest was for when the work was done. But as a mom who works, who creates, who builds — the work is never really done.
I Started Choosing Rest Anyway
And not the kind of rest that feels like a luxury. I mean the kind that feels like survival.
It started with small choices:
I let the inbox wait.
I sat down without guilt.
I admitted I was tired — out loud.
And the truth?
The world didn’t fall apart.
But inside, I started to feel whole again.
Rest Doesn’t Make You Less of a Mother — It Makes You More Human
I’m not a machine. I’m a woman with a story. With mental health battles I don’t always talk about. With goals, grief, dreams, triggers, and healing in progress.
And still, I’m a mother.
A present one. A loving one. A trying one.
Even when I’m not perfect.
My kids don’t need a polished, powered-through version of me. They need the real me — one who knows her limits, who can show softness, and who teaches them that taking care of yourself matters too.
You Don’t Have to Earn Your Rest
You don’t need to hit a milestone or finish a to-do list to deserve a break. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone.
Your rest is not selfish. It’s sacred.
And maybe, like me, you need someone to remind you of that today.
So here it is:
You’re allowed to rest.
You’re allowed to let go of the cape.
You’re allowed to be a different kind of mom — not the one who “does it all,” but the one who chooses to show up well, even if that means showing up slow.
Because sometimes, the bravest thing we can do… is sit down, breathe, and begin again — from a place of gentleness instead of pressure.
You are already enough.
You are already doing so much.
And your rest? That’s part of the work too.
XOXO,
