Right now, my kids are in their rooms, waiting for me to wrap up my work because I’m the one who facilitates their life beyond these walls. My daughter is really into beauty hacks from the dollar store, and my son needs a ride to see his friend.
Tonight, my partner is joining us for dinner, and a few days ago—when I felt more rested—I excitedly proposed having a family feast featuring all our favorite summer dishes, which I would prepare, of course.
Yesterday, on my day off, I realized just how much my home needed tidying up after I let my kids hang out with our two dogs. My hair roots were showing, and that sight never fails to make me feel washed out. Every time I catch my reflection, I barely recognize the person looking back at me.
We were down to our last roll of toilet paper, so I made a comprehensive list of everything we needed (which turned out to be an endless list) and then dove into a cleaning frenzy until I was so hungry I felt like I might snap at someone.
After putting away the groceries and already feeling exhausted before the day had even begun, the urge to cry hit me hard.
I despise reaching this point—the moment when something trivial, like a lawn needing mowing or a bill due, sends me spiraling.
I’ve convinced myself I deserve to play catch-up when I fall behind. After all, I took Friday off and didn’t do anything productive, or so I thought. I spent that “mental health day” trimming branches and weeding in our yard, activities that should have been done ages ago. I drove my kids around to pick up their friends and treated them to ice cream. I even changed burnt-out light bulbs and shampooed the carpets.
After a date night that left me exhausted, I fell into a deep sleep—one I desperately needed because I had overextended myself that week.
Now, I want to take my kids out for fun activities that will bring them joy. I want to prepare a lovely dinner because I enjoy cooking, and it’s been too long since we’ve shared a meal together at home. I want to be intimate with my boyfriend because I truly value that connection.
But today, all signs point to burnout—I just want to pull a pillow over my head and ignore the world.
This is not how life should be.
I should have spent Friday recuperating from life’s demands—that was the whole point of taking the day off. Instead, my inner martyr kicked in, convincing me I could tackle errands and chores instead of taking the time I really needed to read a book or stroll through my garden.
I keep piling on tasks and saying “yes” rather than pausing to consider how I feel.
No one is forcing this on me. In fact, my kids and partner prefer the relaxed version of me, not the burnt-out, stressed-out one who snaps when someone asks where the ketchup is. They want me to rest and enjoy our time together.
A few years back, I realized that I don’t have to shoulder everything alone, as it’s impossible to feel happy and healthy if I do. But recognizing this and putting it into practice are two entirely different things.
When I’m constantly preoccupied with keeping the house immaculate, there’s no time left for the things I enjoy. I can’t look forward to activities with my partner when I’m drained and have committed to social events when what I truly need is a quiet night at home.
Nobody will mind if we order pizza tonight instead of me spending hours in the kitchen. It’s summer, after all, and we should enjoy grilling and simple meals, rather than stressing over elaborate dishes.
One person cannot meet the needs of their kids, partner, job, and home and expect to have anything left for themselves.
So why do we do this to ourselves?
Why do we think today or this week will be different? Why do we feel guilty for taking a day off for ourselves? Why do we equate running on empty with being a superhero?
I believe the answer lies in the fear of falling behind. We worry that if we don’t tackle everything, no one else will. But the truth is, the people in our lives who seem happier don’t stress about getting it all done.
Living this way doesn’t improve us.
Had I taken Friday off as I intended, I would be in a better place today. I wouldn’t feel irritable with my kids or stretched too thin. I’d be eager to prepare dinner and enjoy family time, rather than feeling like a worn-out dishrag.
I have to remember that neglecting my own needs impacts everything else. Saying “yes” to everyone but myself breeds bitterness and exhaustion. We must normalize the idea that mothers can prioritize their own well-being and stop picking up everyone else’s pieces.
I’m committed to breaking this cycle because I find that I’m just a happier person when I do. And that’s reason enough.
If you’re interested in more insights on this topic, check out this other blog post, or learn more about navigating your fertility journey from an authority like Make a Mom and explore excellent resources on female infertility.
Summary
In this article, Jessica Hart explores the struggles of balancing family, work, and self-care. She reflects on the exhaustion that comes from prioritizing everyone else’s needs over her own, leading to burnout. Hart emphasizes the importance of self-care and the need for mothers to prioritize their well-being to maintain happiness and health. She encourages breaking the cycle of over-commitment and normalizing the practice of putting oneself first.
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