Stuck in the Middle: The Contradictions That Exhaust and Guilt Moms

Motherhood is a paradox. A beautiful, exhausting, mind-bending paradox. It's a constant rollercoaster of contradictory thoughts that never stop swirling—pulling you in one direction, then snapping you back in another. Every decision feels like a trap, like you're always either sacrificing something or selling yourself short. It’s the kind of mental and emotional chaos that leaves you questioning if you’ll ever be able to be satisfied, or if the guilt will keep eating at you from the inside out.

The real kicker? No one talks about this. No one talks about the fact that, as a mom, you’re not just raising kids—you’re raising a mountain of conflicting desires, regrets, and overwhelming, unspoken expectations. You are raising yourself, morphing into this new woman without a manual. 

"I Want to Stay at Home, But I Want to Work—What Am I Doing?"

Let’s start with the classic dilemma that makes every mom feel like she’s losing her mind: Do I stay home or do I work? If you’ve ever faced this tug-of-war, you know exactly what I’m talking about. There’s this part of you that wants to be with your kids every second of the day—wipe away the snotty noses, watch them grow, be their superhero. But then there’s that other part of you, the one that wants to find validation outside the home, who craves utilizing your brain without counting wake windows. The part that wants to earn financial independence and have solo drives to and from the office.

You can’t win. Because as you settle into being a stay-at-home mom, you feel this deep itch to have an identity outside of "mom." You want to have conversations with adults who don’t talk about poop. But then, if you decide to go back to work, you’re instantly bombarded with guilt. How could you leave your babies behind? What kind of mother are you to want anything other than being with them all day?

It’s a mental tug-of-war that leaves you spiraling into guilt-ridden exhaustion. You’re not allowed to want both. You’re not allowed to crave something more than motherhood without feeling like you’re failing at it.

"I Want Alone Time, But I Don’t Want to Miss Them"

Okay, who doesn’t want a few hours of absolute silence? There’s that moment when the kids are occupied, or maybe they’re off at grandma’s for the weekend, and you’re finally free. Free from the chaos. Free from the constant requests and needs. And in that moment, you feel like you could take a deep breath again, maybe even hear your own thoughts.

But here’s the thing no one tells you about this: The minute that peace hits, it feels like someone slapped you in the face. What did you just do? You’re happy they’re out of your hair, but that doesn’t mean you’re not missing them—missing the noise, the chaos, the sheer presence of them. The guilt creeps in…"You should be savoring this time with them. You should be cherishing every second."

So now, instead of enjoying the freedom you craved, you're scrolling through pictures on your phone of their messy faces, longing for the moments you just escaped. The constant back-and-forth makes you feel like a failure for wanting peace.

"I Can’t Wait for Bedtime, But I Miss Them the Second They’re Asleep"

Who can’t relate to the sweet, sweet anticipation of bedtime? When the day is finally winding down, when you’ve counted down the minutes until you can have some time to yourself. You think you’ll finally get to relax, maybe even binge-watch a show you’ve been dying to catch up on. So, you rush through the bedtime routine, desperate to get the kids to sleep and feel some semblance of peace.

But the second they fall asleep, you realize something: You miss them. You miss the chaos, the noise, the feeling of their little bodies snuggled up to you. You sit on the couch staring at the baby monitor and suddenly, your heart aches. You wonder if they felt safe enough, loved enough, seen enough. Was the bedtime routine too rushed? Did you give them enough of you? Did you hug them long enough?

It’s an emotional sucker-punch that hits you right in the gut, every time. How can you go from counting the minutes until bedtime to staring at their sleeping bodies, wishing for just one more moment of their chaos?

"I Want to Declutter, But I Can’t Let Go"

And then there’s the clutter. Toys. Endless, mind-numbing piles of toys. You dream of a clean, minimalist home where nothing is out of place, where the floors aren’t a minefield of toy cars and plastic food. You daydream of a time when you don’t have to sweep up cereal for the fifth time in one day or trip over another stuffed animal.

But then, when they have outgrown those toys and it’s time to pack them away, it hits you like a freight train. These aren’t just toys. These are symbols of your child’s innocence, their growth, their moments of joy. And as you put away their outgrown toys, you feel the sting of time slipping through your fingers. With each toy you box up, it’s like you’re packing away a piece of their childhood—and you’re not ready for that.

You’re not ready to let go. But you’re drowning in the clutter. Again, you can’t win. 

The Exhaustion of Being Torn in Two

These contradictions—the wanting and not wanting, the love and the guilt, the peace and the chaos—create a kind of mental and emotional whiplash that wears you down. No matter what choice you make, it feels like it’s never enough. And that’s the soul-crushing exhaustion of motherhood that no one talks about.

So, what do you do? You survive. You give yourself permission to feel torn. You acknowledge that you’re never going to be okay with all of it—and that’s okay. You’re not meant to have it all figured out. You’re just meant to be in it, even if it’s messy and chaotic. 

But one thing is for sure: You are enough. The fact you are even worrying about these things means you are loving enough, present enough, and the perfect mama for that perfect babe.