So, last week I spilled my oat milk latte while arguing with my 4-year-old about why we can’t adopt every stray cat in the neighborhood. As I wiped up the mess, it hit me: When did I become the “mean mom” who says no to cats but also the CEO of snack distribution and Band-Aid applications? 🤷♀️ Let’s talk about why “having it all” is a myth—but owning your messy, glorious version of motherhood isn’t.
Here’s the tea: Society treats moms like we’re either Pinterest-perfect martyrs or cold-hearted “career monsters.” A 2023 Oxford study found working moms spend 37% more time on childcare than dads and 62% more hours on household logistics. But guess what? I still wear red lipstick to parent-teacher conferences. I still book solo pottery classes. And no, my kids aren’t emotionally neglected—they’re learning that women are whole humans, not just service providers.
Take last month’s school bake sale drama. Instead of hand-making organic vegan cookies at 2 AM (been there, cried over that), I bought store-bought brownies and spent the “saved” time finishing a freelance project. The backlash? One mom side-eyed me like I’d brought a kaleidoscope of sin. But my daughter high-fived me: “Mom, your brownies didn’t taste like sadness!” 🎯 Mic drop.
Psychologist Dr. Amelia Zhao (name changed) calls this the “Matriarch Mindset”—prioritizing sustainable nurturing. It’s not about doing less, but doing what aligns with your core identity. For me, that means:
– Negotiating mom guilt like a corporate merger: “I’ll read three bedtime stories if you stop asking why plants don’t have faces after 8 PM.”
– Treating “me time” like a medical prescription: My therapist literally wrote “mandatory Thursday jazz baths” on my treatment plan.
– Redefining “good mom” metrics: My kids’ emotional IQ matters more than their matching socks. Fight me.
But here’s the kicker: Embracing your matriarch energy actually helps your kids. A UCLA longitudinal study showed children of moms who maintained strong personal identities had 23% higher resilience scores. Translation: Watching you thrive teaches them how to live, not just exist.
Final confession: I still hide in the pantry to eat secret chocolate. My laundry pile occasionally resembles modern art. But when my daughter told her teacher “My mom’s the boss of making dinosaurs talk and her computer job,” I knew I’d cracked the code. 👑
Your turn, mama: What’s one thing you’ll do this week that screams “I EXIST BEYOND SNACKS”? Drop it below—let’s normalize existing as full humans, not just baby-wrangling legends.
