I think every modern mother can attest to the fact that we are overstimulated, exhausted, and feel the pressure to always be “on,” often neglecting our own needs. We want to provide the best for our kids, while simultaneously feeling like it’s never enough. Why are we doing the most for everyone else and leaving ourselves last?
Maybe we squeeze in a girls’ night every few months, or even a manicure every two weeks. But what about a day with nothing on the schedule? Not filling every moment with something, and truly enjoying the right now? And even if one of our favorite titles in the world is “mom,” it’s not our entire identity. We can exist as a whole person outside of motherhood. No matter how much we love being a mom, it’s important for our children to witness us having a life beyond parenthood. Having hobbies, taking care of ourselves, and letting a few balls drop every once in a while is showing them what it means to be human.
So if motherhood has become one long to-do list that has us in a constant state of trying to do it all and never feeling like it’s enough, we are left with very little room for joy. Is it possible to “do it all” and also enjoy it?
Why now feels different
Part of it is timing. This isn’t just motherhood. It’s motherhood right alongside midlife, where the list isn’t only about the kids. It’s the kids, and a career or a business, aging parents starting to need more, and a body and emotional state that are changing on a daily basis. Nothing about this season has an off switch. There’s no role that pauses so another one can begin. They all run at once, all day, even after the house goes quiet at night.
We put this pressure on ourselves partly because no one told us it was optional to carry it all simultaneously. We assume that if we let one ball drop, we’re a bad mom, a hot mess, a flaky friend, a distant daughter. But “enough” was never actually about how much we did. It just felt that way, because the doing was the only thing we could measure.
The Mask
So we get up and we perform even on our hardest days. Maybe for social media or for the people right in front of us. Other parents at pickup. Family at the holidays. Even our own kids. We want to look like we have it together, because looking like it has become the proof that we’re doing this “right”.
But there’s a second, sneaky cost to the mask. Our kids are watching. And what they’re learning, even when we never say it out loud, is that our needs aren’t important. They see us pour into every activity, every lunch, and set ourselves aside to do it. We think we’re teaching them selflessness, but what we’re actually teaching them is to put their own needs last.
And we can’t actually shut off the thoughts. Even in the ordinary ones that don’t need managing, our minds are three tasks ahead. We can be mid-conversation with our kid and already mentally packing tomorrow’s lunch. We can be sitting right there for the movie and still be somewhere else entirely. The mask isn’t only for other people. Sometimes it’s a mask we wear so well that we lose the moment even when we’re the only one in it.
And most days, we almost pull it off. Until we don’t.
Maybe it’s a morning where you’re so overstimulated that you snap at your kid over something small. And then the guilt hits, and erases everything good that came before it. The lunch you packed with a special note included. The patience you had all morning. None of it counts anymore, because in your mind, the snap cancelled it out.
But I don’t think it did. I think that moment might have been one of the only honest ones all day. Not because losing our patience is something to aim for, but because it was real and real is exactly what our kids need to see. What they actually need isn’t a mother who never cracks. It’s a mother who cracks, and repairs later. That’s how they learn that struggle and capability aren’t opposites.
Redefining enough
So how do we know when it’s enough? I don’t think it’s a finish line we cross once the list is done because let’s be real, the list is never done. I think enough is a felt sense, not a measure of how much we have achieved. It’s the moment we stop asking the question at all. And that comes with a little rebellion and conviction that we don’t have to do it all anymore. (Something I’ve been actively working on and coaching clients on for years).
That might look like leaving the dishes in the sink on purpose. Ten unscheduled minutes that don’t get filled by reaching for your phone or squeezing in one quick task. Or even better, a full day with nothing on the calendar and plenty of unstructured time to just be, without earning it first.
This is my biggest why for starting the Living Well mother-daughter retreats. To give moms space to receive and pour into themselves while their daughter is just in the next room. It shows her that taking time for yourself is not something reserved for someday, but it can happen right now. And by prioritizing that, she’ll learn to do the same for herself, too. That’s reprogramming happening in real time.
You are enough. You don’t have to earn rest. You are doing your best.
Now you say it: “I am enough. I don’t have to earn rest. I am doing my best.”
Ashley Napoli is the founder of Living Well, a coaching practice for women built around one idea: inward first, everything else follows. A former teacher and mom based in Westchester, NY, she's spent over 15 years doing her own inner work before ever turning it into a practice for others. She writes and coaches on alignment— the gap between who we're performing for and who we actually are— through 1:1 coaching, yoga and retreats.