Motherhood & Loneliness

Motherhood has probably been the loneliest thing I’ve ever experienced. I’m surrounded by my children’s unconditional love, yet I still feel so unloved. My children are always in my company, yet I feel so alone. My home is filled with laughter and hope, but some days I find myself in deep sadness. Something just isn’t adding up.

After three children, I realised I don’t actually have a go-to person I can contact when I’m in need. I’m a therapist by profession, my career is literally about being there emotionally for others. I do it in my personal life all the time too. But I couldn’t find that same level of emotional support reflected back to me, and it felt strange.

I noticed my friends were also mothers, navigating their own struggles, and I didn’t want to burden them with my “stuff.” I’ve become so used to holding space for everyone else’s pain that I’ve forgotten how to share my own. Maybe it comes with the territory, but I think I only feel truly comfortable opening up in therapy with another therapist.

In those spaces, I can talk about motherhood, the deep pain it sometimes brings, the mirror it holds up to our own flaws, the fear of repeating patterns from childhood, and that silent plea that our children won’t hate us when they grow up. Motherhood brings so much joy, yet lately it’s brought me guilt, pressure, and some harsh reality checks.

I’ve come to realise that we can be our own worst critics. And when you’re constantly trying to be present for others, it can become exhausting, draining, and unsustainable.

This is why I started the coffee mornings for mums and mums-to-be because we deserve spaces to feel seen and heard. As mums, we need places where we can talk about the everyday noise that gets so loud, reflect on our pasts, and share those raw moments that make us feel so alone.

So here I am, learning, unlearning, breaking, and rebuilding. Trying to mother my children while also learning how to mother myself.