I was standing in my kitchen last Tuesday, burned grilled cheese in one hand, a toddler attached to my leg, and my phone buzzing with a reminder about the dentist appointment I’d already missed twice. And I thought to myself: I’ve got this totally under control.
Spoiler alert. I did not have it under control.
But here’s the thing. I kept telling myself I was fine. That this was just a hard season. That other moms handle way more than this without complaining. Sound familiar?
If you’ve ever felt like you should be able to manage everything on your own, or that asking for help means you’ve somehow failed at this whole parenting thing, let me sit with you for a minute. Because recognizing when self-help strategies aren’t cutting it anymore isn’t weakness. It’s actually one of the smartest things you can do for yourself and your family.
Somewhere along the way, we got sold this idea that good moms handle everything gracefully. The kids activities, the healthy meals, the clean house, the thriving marriage, the glowing skin. All while maintaining our own wellness routines and probably running a side business or two.
It’s exhausting just typing that out.
The truth is, that mom doesn’t exist. Or if she does, she has a lot more help than she’s letting on. And that’s okay! Having help isn’t cheating. It’s just being human.
But so many of us have internalized this pressure to figure it all out ourselves. We read the parenting books. We try the meditation apps. We meal prep on Sundays and create chore charts and buy the planners with the inspirational quotes on the covers.
And sometimes that works beautifully.
And sometimes it really, really doesn’t.
So how do you know when you’ve crossed the line from “tough week” to “I actually need some support here”? It’s not always obvious, especially when you’re in the middle of it. But here are some signs I’ve learned to watch for, both in myself and in the moms I talk to.
You know that feeling where you’re so tired you can’t sleep? Where you’re too exhausted to even think about self-care, let alone actually do it? When the things that used to recharge you just feel like more items on the endless to-do list, something’s off.
I remember going through a phase where I’d put the kids to bed and then just stare at the wall. Not relaxing. Not scrolling. Just… nothing. My brain had checked out because it couldn’t handle one more decision.
When choosing what to make for dinner brings you to tears, or when your kid asking for help with homework makes you want to hide in the bathroom, that’s information worth paying attention to.
It doesn’t mean you’re dramatic or weak. It means your capacity is maxed out. And that’s not a character flaw. That’s just math.
We all have moments where we’re not our best selves with our kids. That’s normal. But if you’re noticing a pattern where you’re short-tempered more often than not, or if you’re saying things you regret and then feeling horrible about it, that cycle is worth interrupting.
Headaches that won’t quit. Stomach issues. Jaw pain from clenching. Shoulders that live somewhere around your ears. Our bodies are pretty good at telling us when something’s wrong, even when our brains are insisting everything is fine.
This one’s sneaky. Because you can go through all the motions of family life and healthy living without actually feeling any of it. If you’re doing all the right things but feeling numb or disconnected, that matters.
Okay so even when we recognize these signs, actually reaching out can feel impossible. Why is that?
For me, it was a mix of things. Pride, definitely. I wanted to prove I could handle motherhood without falling apart. Fear too. What if someone judged me? What if asking for help meant admitting I wasn’t cut out for this?
And honestly? There was some logistical stuff. Finding a therapist felt overwhelming. Figuring out childcare so I could go to an appointment seemed like more work than just pushing through.
But here’s what I’ve learned. The energy you spend trying to hold it all together by yourself is often way more than the energy it takes to ask for and accept help.
When we talk about getting help, it doesn’t have to mean anything dramatic. It’s not all or nothing. There’s a whole spectrum of support, and you get to figure out what fits your life and your family.
Sometimes help looks like finally saying yes when your mom offers to take the kids for an afternoon. Or texting that friend who keeps checking in and actually telling her the truth instead of saying you’re fine.
Therapy isn’t just for crisis mode. A good therapist can help you develop tools before things get really hard. And these days there are so many options. In person, virtual, apps, support groups. The barrier to entry is lower than it used to be.
Maybe you need help with the house. Or meal delivery for a few weeks. Or a mother’s helper to entertain the kids while you’re home but unavailable. Outsourcing tasks isn’t giving up. It’s resource management.
If you’re experiencing symptoms of anxiety, depression, or burnout, your primary care doctor is a great starting point. They can help rule out physical causes and point you toward next steps.
Here’s something that shifted my whole perspective. Asking for help isn’t admitting defeat. It’s actually modeling something really important for our kids.
We want our children to know they can come to us when things are hard. We want them to understand that humans need each other, that connection and support are strengths, not weaknesses.
How are they going to learn that if we never show them?
When I finally started being honest about my own struggles, something interesting happened. Other moms started opening up to me too. It turns out we were all pretending to have it together while secretly drowning. And that’s just sad, honestly. We could have been helping each other all along.
If you’re reading this and thinking okay but I should have asked for help months ago, please hear me. There’s no deadline you’ve missed. There’s no window that’s closed.
You can start now. Today. This minute.
And it doesn’t have to be a big dramatic gesture. It can be as small as admitting to yourself that things are hard. That’s a start.
Consider this your official permission to not be okay. To need help. To accept it when it’s offered and to seek it out when it’s not.
You’re doing important work raising your family. You deserve support while you do it.
So tell me. What’s one small way you could ask for or accept help this week? I’d love to hear about it. Sometimes just saying it out loud makes it feel more possible.
And hey. You’ve got this. Not because you have to do it alone. But because you’re brave enough to know when you don’t.
