Mum Guilt, Mental Load, and the Weight of Modern Motherhood

A counsellor specialising in maternal mental health explores why so many mothers are struggling beneath the surface, and why having somewhere to take that honestly changes everything.

I'm a mum of two toddlers, deep in big feelings, while I navigate big feelings for a living. Life has thrown us some serious curve balls, perinatal depression, feeding struggles, heart surgery, just the standard stuff, right? But through it all I've managed to build a beautiful support network, grounded by phenomenal mothers from all walks of life who inspire me every day to hold each new mum born into our society.

Why does modern motherhood feel so relentless?

The gap between what motherhood is supposed to feel like and what it actually feels like is enormous. During pregnancy, most of us held visions of beautiful bonding moments, calm aesthetic playroom setups, and the ability to pick up exactly where we left off with a baby on the hip.

Nobody prepared us for how all-consuming it really is. Yes, we were told our lives would change. Yes, we were warned to sleep while we could. But nobody told us there was no going back to who we were before, even though that's exactly what society expects of us.

Modern motherhood changes your identity fundamentally. And yet, with all the expansion of women's rights, roles and dreams, motherhood itself has not expanded with us. We're simply told we can't have it all. If we try, we're in burnout, we hate our children, or we simply aren't doing it right.

The relentlessness of motherhood is rooted in a culture that cannot be satisfied by any version of how we mother. There is no right answer, and at some point or another, every mother cracks just enough to believe that she is not enough.

What is mum guilt and where does it actually come from?

This is where mum guilt comes in. The less sleep you got the night before, the amount of times you raised your voice at your kids, the feeling of not quite enough coffee for this day yet; the more susceptible you are to the constant messaging that you're not doing enough.

Mum guilt is what happens when we let other people's voices drown out our own wisdom. It catches us at our weakest moments and makes us question our ability to be the best mother for our children.

I'm guilty of it myself. I only post the best moments of motherhood on social media. Yes, I'll share the funny fails, the lighthearted chaos, but you won't see instagram stories of me in tears because my child simply will not get into the car seat. We all have those moments. We just choose to hide them.

What happens to a woman's identity when she becomes a mother?

This is also why our sense of identity can start to feel like background noise. When our sense of self is fragile, it becomes easy to surrender to the day-in-day-out of motherhood and forget who we really are.

This is matrescence, akin to adolescence (and I'd argue harder, because I personally wasn't caring for a screaming newborn at thirteen). This is a time when brain chemistry is in complete upheaval, and yet society expects us to remain unchanged. Imagine telling a teenager their brain should stay the same as it was at eight years old. We are expanding, and society is trying to compress us.

Just like a teenager navigating the real world for the first time, you will grieve the innocent, carefree version of yourself. That is completely normal, and you are not ungrateful for feeling it.

But with this expansion comes a whole new range of possibilities. What I hope all mothers come to appreciate in time, is how this journey has shaped them into the phenomenal person they are today. You don't have to feel grateful yet. Don't rush to the finish line. It's completely normal to feel anxious, fearful, and to battle some pretty intense low moods in motherhood.

Just because there's light at the end of the tunnel doesn't mean the tunnel isn't really f***ing long. But it is so much easier to find your way through the dark when you're holding someone else's hand.

Every new mum needs support. You are not exempt, and you do not win a prize for doing it alone.

Why is maternal mental health still so under-supported?

So why are so many mothers still doing this in isolation?

Our society has a deep investment in the idea of individual achievement. We are told she's a superhero because she does it all alone. The world she was raised in taught her that power comes from individual achievement, not collective care, and it's setting her up for failure.

We were not meant to do this alone. But I understand why so many of us try, because it's all we've been taught.

There's also the problem of timing. "Postpartum" literally means after birth. Once you've had a baby, that is technically the rest of your life, but we've somehow stamped a six-week expiry date on support. That window doesn't account for the return of your menstrual cycle, changes in feeding or weaning, returning to work when you choose to do so, or all the other big motherhood moments yet to come. It looks at your superficial physical recovery, gives you the tick of approval, and sends you on your way.

What does "building a village" actually mean — and why does it matter?

This is where mothers start crying out for a village; one they should have had all along.

Until recently, children were born into community, cared for in community, and raised with the love of a community. When our communities feel fractured, it becomes easier to retreat into individual family units than to bridge the gap.

Building a village begins with a mindset shift. It begins with refusing to judge other mothers, and especially refusing to judge ourselves. It begins with supporting, lifting and normalising the messy, complex, beautiful work of raising children together.

This is not optional, it's essential. If we want better outcomes for mothers, for families, for children, we need to normalise the empowerment of the people creating and raising our next generation. Building a village should not be a privilege for those with enough money or resources. It should be expected. It should be automatic. It should be a lifelong way of raising children.

How does counselling support mothers who are struggling?

This future ideal is great to preach about, and I truly hope we get there someday soon. But a future ideal doesn't help if you're struggling right now.

If you're staring at your phone in the middle of the night because your mind won't settle, knowing you'll be woken up again in forty-five minutes; the long-term vision of a village isn't going to ease your pain.

What does help is reaching out for direct support, however that looks for you. Finding an aligned counsellor is a step toward your village, and every support person you implement adds a new layer to your motherhood journey.

The support you find should understand the complexity of your journey. This is where a qualified therapist with lived experience (hey, have we met?), can offer something uniquely suited to you. A postpartum counsellor understands that exhaustion, grief, love, guilt, gratitude, resentment, joy, and so much more live not just in your mind, but deep within your body. When the haze of early motherhood leaves no space in your brain for memories, they imprint themselves in your fingers, the crease of your elbow, your forever aching lower back.

My practice is telehealth-based, meaning I can work with mums all across Australia. No childcare to arrange, no getting the pram in the car. Just you (and baby if needed), from the comfort of your own space, accessing the support you deserve.

What does a counselling session with you actually look like?

Counselling looks different for every person, and I think that's where its real power lies.

I don't treat you as a diagnosis to be managed. I see you as a whole person; complex, contradictory and constantly evolving. You are not someone to be fixed. You are someone to be held.

All sessions are online and accessible from anywhere in Australia. The ideal structure for most clients is fortnightly sessions for at least six weeks, though ongoing support is always available. Trust takes time to build. Witnessing you becoming a mother, validating the decisions you're making, sitting with you as this new version of you takes shape; is one of the most valuable things I can offer.

Ready to take the first step?

If you've read this far, chances are motherhood is feeling heavy right now.

Whatever support looks like for you, try not to let fear or shame stand in the way of receiving it.

Society calls motherhood the most important job of all. It's time we started treating it that way.

FAQ

What is mum guilt and is it normal?
Mum guilt is so normal! I like to describe it as something that happens when other people's expectations drown out your own. It shows up when you're depleted, and makes you doubt the phenomenal mum you are. Guilt means we care, and the goal shouldn't be to eliminate it, but to stop letting it run the show.

What is the mental load and why is it so exhausting?
The mental load of motherhood is manning your own life schedule, whilst also manning the schedule of the children, the house, the future. And the reason it's so exhausting is because it never switches off. You're already 10 steps ahead at any given time, even though I know you feel like you're 10 steps behind, you're doing way more than you think.

How do I know if I need counselling or if I'm just finding motherhood hard? Motherhood is hard, that means you're doing it right. If you're just in a tricky period, if things will look brighter with just a little more sleep, you may not need counselling. But if the bad days outweigh the better ones, if you're struggling to find joy, if you feel like you don't know who you are anymore, it's worth paying attention to. Remember: you don't need to be in a crisis, to deserve support.

What is matrescence?
Matresence seems like a buzz word at the moment, but it's been around since the 70s. The mother icon, Dana Raphael, coined this term (along with 'doula'), to describe what happens when a woman becomes a mother. It's physical, psychological, hormonal, soul-altering stuff. And if it feels intense, it's because it is. You are fundamentally evolving, you are not broken, you are becoming.

Can counselling help with postnatal depression and postpartum anxiety?
Definitely! Depression and anxiety are big things in postpartum, and I'm prepped to support them. A counsellor doesn't diagnose these (if diagnosis is your thing I'll refer you to a beautiful psychologist), but we are here to help you feel less alone, ground you, and find ways that work for you to thrive even when your brain doesn't want to. 
Note: If you're experiencing a crisis, please reach out to PANDA (1300 726 306), or Lifeline (13 11 14).

What does it mean to build a village as a modern mother?
Building a village sounds like we are time travelling back a few 100 years, but it's simply reminding yourself that motherhood was never meant to be done alone. The village looks a little different now. You might have to pay for it, it might live more virtually, but a villager is anyone who shows up, holds space, and shares the load, however this looks for you and your circle. The only way to build it is to ask for help.

How does online counselling work for mothers?
You click a Google Meet link, and there I am. No need to leave the house, baby can be feeding, hopefully your toddler didn't choose violence that day. I am accessible anywhere in Australia, and have set up a container that holds you fully, with support in between sessions.

Why do mothers find it so hard to ask for help?
We've been lied to. We were told we could do it all, like it was a prize. We were told that being super mum was the ultimate win. We were told that individual achievement mattered more than collective empowerment. Everyone struggles to ask for help, but mothers, the helpers themselves, are the ones that struggle most, because we are supposed to have all the answers. Asking for help is rebellion in a world that's forced you to do it alone.

How many counselling sessions will I need?
This is different for everyone. I've designed a container of six sessions, ideally scheduled once a fortnight. But you may choose to book with me indefinitely, or tailor the schedule to more or less. I don't recommend one off sessions as a general rule, but the answer to this question lies in what you're bringing to therapy and what you hope to get out of it.