What’s the Hardest Part About Being a Working Mum?
I had a realisation this week that stopped me in my tracks.
What if the hardest part of being a working mother wasn’t the juggle?
What if it’s knowing the woman you could be in every area of your life… and not having the time, energy, headspace or support to be her?
The realisation smacked me in the face, then settled into a heavy, dense feeling in the pit of my stomach.
At first, I took it as proof that I’d never be “as good as I used to be” at work, or the “always calm, ever-present” mother I thought I would be. It’s only on reflection that I can see how unrealistic (and unfair) those thoughts were. I’ve grown so much from the pre-kids version of me, and motherhood has surpassed my expectations in so many other ways. Yet, the voice of comparison rings loud for all of us, so I wanted to share.
As I’ve sat with it this week, I realised it wasn’t something to fix. It was something to understand.
In my career, I’ve always worked long hours and taken pride in being the one with the well-thought-out, well-rounded strategy – the kind that only comes from having time and headspace. Now, I’m lucky if I’m on top of my to-do list.
Having lived as the “old me”, I know this version of me with young kids doesn’t measure up in the same way… but that’s when I realised I was comparing apples with pears. I might not be as sharp or as able to dedicate my life to work anymore, but I am still just as capable and experienced, and I bring a whole new set of skills since becoming a mother.
And the same pattern applies to how “good” I am as a mother.
I think we all fall into the trap of designing the life and version of ourselves we want to be when we step into motherhood. Logically, we know life doesn’t always go to plan, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt or take time to adjust our expectations.
I’m sure I’m not alone in feeling this way – knowing you’re doing your best, but also quietly comparing yourself to the mums who seem to have more time, more support, or fewer competing demands.
I’ve noticed my inner critic likes to appear during particularly challenging weeks. It can see our potential so clearly, and I think that’s where so much of the guilt comes from. Not because we’re failing, but because we can see the gap between where we are and what we believe we’re capable of.
But I’ve spun the narrative in my head this week, and I hope it will help you, too.
Maybe that gap isn’t a reflection of your capability.
Maybe it’s a reflection of your capacity.
You’re not underperforming. You’re operating within a completely different set of constraints. The standard we’re holding ourselves to often assumes unlimited time, energy, and support – and that’s just not the reality most of us are living in.
This really landed for me this week. It’s Easter half-term here in the UK, and I’ve been juggling a new starter at work, projects across six brands, shorter childcare hours, personal challenges within the team, hosting family over Easter, and the first anniversary of my mother-in-law’s passing. It felt like everything was asking something from me, all at once.
At one point, I could feel that familiar pressure building – the need to hold everything together, to show up as the version of me who has it all covered, who doesn’t drop the ball, and who keeps everything moving seamlessly.
So I gave myself a bit of a pep talk, took a deep breath, and made a decision.
I let myself be okay with the idea that I might let people down at work this week.
Not because I don’t care, but because my family comes first. I still did what I could to balance things, working a little later where I could, but the real shift was in accepting that I couldn’t do it all in the way I usually would. And more than that, I allowed myself to be seen in it, which felt like a huge, scary step.
That feeling stayed with me so strongly that I wrote this note in the middle of it:
The response to that note said everything. People don’t just resonate with perfection, they resonate with honesty – because it gives them permission to be seen in it, too.
When we always appear like we have everything under control, people assume we don’t need help. And when we eventually reach a point where we do need support, it can feel even harder to ask for it, especially if no one is used to stepping in.
Letting your guard down, even slightly, creates space for something different. It gives people a way in to offer their help. It invites support, connection, and a sense of shared understanding that so many of us are quietly craving.
This is the process I’ve come back to time and time again when I feel something like this surface. I’m sharing it in case it helps you too.
Sit with the feeling
This is harder than it sounds. Sitting with a feeling without pushing it away or pretending to give it attention while secretly keeping your guard up takes practice.
Create a little space from it
Our thoughts can feel all-consuming, but they aren’t always facts. When we feel shame or negativity, our mind often tries to protect us by either amplifying or dismissing what’s there. Instead, try to observe it as information rather than truth.
Get curious about where it’s coming from
Emotions are rarely just about the present moment. Often, they’re linked to something deeper – whether it’s a past experience, a belief, or a pattern we’ve carried for years. Sitting with the feeling, without judgment, can help you uncover it.
Choose a different perspective
Our brains are brilliant at finding evidence to support what we already believe. But just as old beliefs are formed, new ones can be created. The thought that I’m not reaching my full potential right now isn’t proof that I’m failing. It’s simply highlighting where my time and energy are currently going.
Decide what you want to do with the information
Once you see it clearly, you have a choice. You can make a change, or you can consciously decide not to.
In my case, I can see the potential to be more present as a mother, or more focused in my career – but I also know that right now, I’m balancing both in a way that works for this season.
So I’ve chosen to do nothing. I acknowledge the feeling, take what it’s shown me, and let it pass. And as I do that, the heaviness dissolves.
I also keep coming back to the idea that one “bad day” doesn’t make you a bad mother, a bad employee, or a bad friend. Your character is built over time, not defined by a few moments where things didn’t go to plan. The people who truly care about you aren’t watching and waiting for you to slip up – they’re far more likely to check in and see if you’re okay.
I think so much of this comes back to trust and compassion with yourself.
Trusting that you are doing your best, even when it looks different from day to day. Trusting that you are still the same capable woman, even if this season doesn’t allow you to show up in the way you once did. And having the compassion to meet yourself where you are, rather than constantly measuring yourself against a version of life that doesn’t exist right now.
If this resonated with you, I’d love you to share it with another woman who might need the reminder today 🤍
And if you’re in a season where the juggle feels heavy and you’re ready to be supported through it, I do have a small number of 1:1 coaching spaces available. You can DM me anytime for details.