This Post is for the Mothers

This post may feel a bit different than my previous ones, as it turns the focus inward to the parent—specifically, to the mother. We spend so much time and energy thinking about what our children need to thrive, yet rarely pause to consider the demands we, as mothers, quietly shoulder. This isn’t a story about our children; it’s about us—the mothers who show up day after day, often at the expense of our own well-being.

An Achievement to Be Proud Of—But at What Cost?

A few weeks ago, I crossed the finish line of the NYC Marathon, a moment I had trained for starting at just two months postpartum. Since the birth of my son six years ago, running has become my way of managing mental health, bringing regular and regulating exercise into my days, and challenging myself with new goals. After pregnancy and birth, lacing up my running shoes felt like a return to myself—a chance to prove that I hadn’t “lost” my ability to run fast, build endurance, and set physical goals.

But this race was different. Just shy of the 18-mile mark, I felt my strength give out. By the time I reached my family cheering at the 21-mile mark in the Bronx, I wanted to leave the course. I was tired, dehydrated, and my headphones weren’t working—a small but frustrating detail that left me alone with my thoughts when I needed distraction most. All I wanted was to go home and hug my baby. This has never happened to me in a race before.

When I finally crossed the finish line, I was flooded with a mix of emotions: elation at completing the race, pride in pushing through, and sheer relief that it was over. But that relief carried a weight I couldn’t ignore. Almost immediately, I was hit with sharp joint pain, overwhelming fatigue, and the realization that this finish line marked not just the end of a race, but the culmination of months of pushing my body harder than it, perhaps, was ready for.

As I recovered, I began to reflect on the “why” behind my training and racing. Why had I pushed myself to start so soon after giving birth? Why did I feel the need to prove something when my body clearly needed rest and recovery? These questions opened a wider reflection on the way I approach not just running, but also my roles as a woman, a mother, and someone deeply committed to community-serving work.

In so many areas of my life, I pour myself out to serve others—my family, my work, my community. While this gives me purpose and fulfillment, it sometimes leaves me depleted. Even when I ask for help or take time away, I’m never really “off” when I am in community. This particular marathon became a metaphor for how often I push myself to the edge without fully considering what I need to sustain myself, and how far back that return from the edge can be.

The Weight of Expectations and the Reality of Falling Short

The world often expects mothers to “bounce back” quickly—to return to work, maintain their household, and pick up where they left off before birth. But matrescence, the incredible transformation into motherhood, doesn’t work that way. It’s messy and slow, reshaping who we are physically, emotionally, and mentally.

Yet, there’s this constant pressure to keep up, even when our bodies and minds are telling us to rest. For me, the marathon revealed how hard it can feel to fall short—not just in meeting others’ expectations, but in meeting the ones we place on ourselves. Some days, the falls are metaphorical, as we struggle with feelings of inadequacy. Other days, they’re literal, as our bodies remind us that we need more care than we’re giving ourselves.

I often advise parents of my students to let go of something each day—whether it’s a “should” they’ve placed on themselves (like folding that extra load of laundry) or something someone else asked of them. Is there a lunch your child can make for themselves? Is there an errand that can wait? Admittedly, I’m much less successful in doing that myself. But this race and the much more complex recovery this time around have shown me the power of letting go.

Practical Tip: Ask yourself daily: “What can I let go of today?” Releasing one non-essential task (or even an essential one!) can help lighten the load and remind you that you don’t have to do everything all at once.

The Cycle That Begins in Childhood

This pattern of overextending ourselves often starts long before motherhood. As girls, many of us are taught to be high achievers—excelling academically while also being nurturing and dependable. I saw this play out recently in a workshop I led for middle school girls. What began as a session on mindful movement and relaxation turned into a conversation about stress and tension.

Some of the girls shared stories of headaches and tight shoulders; others talked about limited mobility in their necks—all signs of carrying too much, too soon. At an age when their energy should be limitless, they were already feeling the weight of unrealistic expectations.

It’s a reminder that if we want to break this cycle, we must teach balance and self-care early, and as mothers, we must model it—even if we struggle to live it ourselves. Recently, I noticed my own elder daughter taking on a parenting role with her younger siblings—without being asked. We had a conversation about it, and I told her how much I appreciated her help, but that her role wasn’t to parent her siblings. That job is mine and her father’s. She was visibly relieved to be relieved of the responsibility.

Practical Tip: Model rest for your children. Say aloud, “I’m taking a break so I can feel my best.” Showing them that it’s okay to rest teaches them valuable lessons about self-care.

Honoring Small Victories

Motherhood asks so much of us, and we rarely pause to acknowledge the wins—every meal prepared, every bedtime story read, every moment of patience shown. These small acts of love and care are triumphs, even if they don’t feel like it. The marathon taught me the importance of celebrating these victories, even when they’re overshadowed by challenges. It reminded me that progress isn’t always linear, and even small steps deserve recognition.

It’s easy to compare ourselves to the curated perfection we see online. Remember that the Instagram mom with picture-perfect meals isn’t showing the mess behind the camera—or the nights she orders takeout because she’s too exhausted to cook. Celebrating small wins is about shifting focus from what we haven’t done to what we have accomplished.

Practical Tip: Keep a journal to honor your wins—no matter how small. Write down one thing each day that you’re proud of, whether it’s a kind word spoken, a difficult moment endured, or even a laugh shared with your children. Take it a step further by sharing these victories out loud with your kids, teaching them the value of gratitude and self-recognition.

Prioritizing Healing

Celebrating small victories helps us shift focus toward what we’re doing right, but true sustainability requires healing—both physical and emotional. Healing is not a luxury; it’s a necessity.

It’s easy to prioritize everyone else’s needs above our own, but the truth is, we can’t pour from an empty cup. I’ve lost count of how many moms have confided in me about pushing through colds or other illnesses because “no one else can do what I do,” all while urging their partners and children to rest when they’re sick.

By caring for ourselves, we model for our children, especially our daughters, what it means to live a balanced and fulfilling life. Healing is the bridge back to feeling whole.

Practical Tip for Healing: Start small. Set aside 10 minutes a day for yourself, whether it’s stretching, journaling, meditating, or just sitting quietly with a cup of tea. When you feel sick or overwhelmed, allow yourself to rest without guilt. If that feels difficult, imagine what advice you’d give to a friend in your position—and follow it. Teaching your children to respect your need for recovery is a gift that encourages them to care for their own well-being.

To All the Mothers Out There

If you’re feeling stretched thin, if you find it hard to celebrate your own strength, know that you’re not alone. Every mother has moments of doubt, exhaustion, and questioning whether she’s doing enough. These feelings don’t define you—they’re simply part of the journey.

Whether your marathon is literal or metaphorical, take a moment to pause, reflect, and give yourself the grace to heal. You don’t have to do everything perfectly, and you don’t have to do it all at once. Small steps matter. A kind word, a quiet moment to yourself, a deep breath taken amidst the chaos—these are victories, too.

You’re carrying a tremendous load, often in ways that others may not see or fully understand. And yet, you keep showing up—with love, with courage, with a heart full of hope for your family. That’s something worth celebrating, not just on the big days, but every single day. You are enough.