Hey Reader,

The other night, I burned my finger taking the dinner out of the oven.

But it was that pre-dinner chaos, and the kids were hungry, so I just kind of… pushed it to the side and carried on with getting dinner on the table, everyone fed, and cleaning up while my husband bathed our girls.

It wasn’t until I lay down in the dark to put my 17 month old to sleep that I noticed the throbbing pain in my finger.

It made me think about how so often this is the case with our own wellbeing as a mum.

You don’t have the time or capacity to even think about how you’re doing.

So you push it to the side, put your head down and power on through everything that needs to be done.

And it isn’t until there’s a brief moment of peace — as you climb into bed, perhaps — that you finally notice it:

That you feel exhausted, having done nothing for yourself all day. You feel guilty for losing in at your kids earlier. And there’s a feeling of being unseen by your partner, the person who used to see you better than anyone.

Lying there in the dark, these feelings can feel like questions you don’t have the time nor the headspace (nor the tools) to resolve.

So on you go.

But over time, not tending to these wounds means they not only don’t heal properly, but they get bigger.

The self-sacrificing grows into a deep emptiness, a sense that you’re losing yourself.

The guilt becomes a general sense of messing things up, a lost confidence in your mothering.

The feeling of being unseen by your partner hardens into resentment, and soon you’re desiring space instead of time together.

When we push our pain to the side, or postpone dealing with it until we have the headspace, I wish I could say it goes away, but it doesn’t. It grows, and soon it feels like an even bigger issue that’s even more overwhelming to deal with.

That’s where many of the mums I work with are at: needing support to heal those wounds that have them feeling lost, overwhelmed, and alone.

Building resilience begins with healing the old hurts so you can release them, then shifting any unhelpful patterns so you’re less likely to have things building up again.

Small steps to take to get you feeling like yourself again, being the mum you want to be and feeling like your own person.

A more fluid relationship with your feelings, letting the overwhelm and frustration come and go more easily, and anchoring down into moments of joy and play.

And simple ways of turning that moment of feeling unseen (before it hardens into resentment) into an opportunity for deeper connection with your partner — no “big conversations” needed.

You are the foundation of the family, mama. You deserve better than your wellbeing being an afterthought.

If in those quieter moments, you finally notice your own pain, please be gentle with yourself. Maybe this is still coming up because it needs to be healed.

Know there is a path out, it makes things feel less overwhelming, not more — and you don’t have to do it on your own.

In support of you,

Kirsti

Mum of two | Coaching Psychologist (MAPPCP)

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Can you help?

I’m looking to speak to mums about their experience in motherhood, in order to shape my upcoming programme Proud of the Parent You Are. If you feel like you’re losing yourself in being everything to everybody else, wanting to parent peacefully but feeling like your overwhelm gets in the way of that, and wondering how your previously-fair relationship has ended up with you shouldering majority of the load, you’re exactly who I’d like to talk to. In exchange, I’ll give you free access to my upcoming Realistic Self-Care course.

In my world

After my youngest started nursery last week and I finally had some time where I wasn’t responsible for either child, I first saw a boost in my energy — and then a big drop. I felt so exhausted, the way I’ve sometimes experienced when I go on holiday after a stressful period at work, as if my nervous system finally feels safe enough to relax. Truthfully, it’s frustrating to find I’m not motivated to be ultra-productive in my business now that I finally have the time, but I’m trying to honour my need to transition slowly, knowing that will come. It feels like my body is reminding me of how much early motherhood really takes, how much of myself I’ve given over the last year and a half. That deserves a pause. If you’re going through a similar transition, or feeling similarly exhausted, consider this a gentle reminder to honour that.