I Love My Kids. Why Don’t I Like Motherhood Sometimes?

There are things women say quietly in therapy that they would never say at preschool pickup.

One of them is some version of: I love my kid. I don't know if I like being a mom.

And then, almost immediately, comes the clarification.

I mean, obviously I love her.

I would do anything for him.

She's amazing.

I know I'm lucky.

I know.

You don't have to convince me that you love your child before you're allowed to tell me that motherhood can be boring, relentless, overstimulating, lonely, rage-inducing, or just not particularly enjoyable sometimes.

Those things can exist at the same time.

You can love the person and not love the job

Maybe you genuinely love being with your kid—and by 4:30 p.m., someone asking you for another snack while you're trying to make dinner and answering a work email makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

Maybe you spent years wanting a baby. Now you have one, and you miss being able to decide what you're doing on a Saturday without coordinating naps, snacks, childcare, somebody's mood, and whether there's a bathroom nearby.

Or maybe you have a good partner. They aren't some useless sitcom husband who has never changed a diaper. They parent. They work. You work. Everyone is trying.

And you still somehow feel like your brain has 37 tabs open at all times.

When did she last eat? Did I respond to the school email? We're almost out of toothpaste. I need to schedule the dentist. What are we having tomorrow night? Those pants are getting too short. Is that birthday party this Saturday or next Saturday?

You can be grateful for your family and still want everyone to stop needing something from you for like...an hour.

I don't think we need to turn all of this into a problem inside mothers

There is plenty we can work on in therapy.

But I get uncomfortable when every difficult feeling in motherhood gets translated into a woman needing to regulate her nervous system better.

Sometimes you're overstimulated because there is too much stimulation.

Sometimes you're resentful because you're doing too much.

Sometimes you're lonely because being around a small child all day is not the same thing as having adult companionship.

Sometimes you desperately need a break because you haven't had a meaningful one.

A breathing exercise isn't going to make three hours of whining delightful. Somatic therapy isn't going to make inadequate childcare adequate. And no amount of inner work changes the fact that parenting small children requires an enormous amount of repetitive, largely invisible labor.

I think it's important to say that because otherwise therapy can become one more place where mothers are handed an impossible situation and asked why they aren't coping with it more gracefully.

I'm not interested in that.

But sometimes motherhood does bump into something deeper

This is where it gets more interesting to me.

Maybe you've spent most of your life being useful.

You're good at anticipating what people need. You keep things running. You're competent. You're thoughtful. You can tolerate quite a lot before asking anyone else for help.

Motherhood can take those qualities and put them on steroids.

Suddenly there is a person who legitimately does need you. A lot.

And if your sense of being good has always been tangled up with being available, helpful, patient, or attuned to other people, it can get very difficult to locate the line between loving your child and disappearing into the role.

You might notice yourself thinking:

I have time, so I should do it.

I could make that instead of buying it.

She's been at school all day, so I should want to spend the evening with her.

Other mothers manage this.

Why do I need a break? I barely even worked today.

The expectations don't always come from someone standing over you demanding more.

Sometimes you've gotten very good at doing that part yourself.

And then there's the guilt

You lose your patience.

You use more screen time than you intended.

You order dinner because you cannot deal with cooking.

You look forward to preschool drop-off.

You go away for a weekend and realize, somewhat guiltily, that you really enjoy not being responsible for anyone else's socks.

Then comes the audit.

Am I selfish?

Am I doing enough?

Why don't I enjoy this more?

She's only little once.

That last one can really get you.

Because yes, they're only little once. And you are also only this age once.

Your child's childhood matters enormously. So does your adulthood.

I don't think one has to consume the other for you to be a good mother.

Maybe the goal isn't to love motherhood more

I work with mothers in my Austin therapy practice, and I'm not particularly interested in convincing women to enjoy motherhood more.

Sometimes therapy does help you enjoy it more. If you're less consumed by guilt, resentment, perfectionism, or the belief that you should always be doing more, there may actually be more room to experience the parts you do love.

But I think there's another possibility too.

You might become more honest about what you don't like.

You might need more childcare. More work. Less work. More time alone. More sex. More creativity. More friendship. A hobby that has absolutely nothing to do with child development.

You might need to stop treating every decision about convenience, money, food, screens, activities, or childcare as evidence of what kind of mother you are.

And you may need some space to remember that motherhood is something you do. It isn't the entirety of who you are.

If you're looking for therapy for mothers in Austin and find yourself thinking, I love my family, so why am I so unhappy/angry/overwhelmed inside of it?, this is the kind of work I do.

I'm Toni Richter, LCSW, a somatic therapist in Austin working with women around motherhood, identity, perfectionism, relationships, attachment, and the complicated work of caring deeply for other people without completely losing yourself.

I offer in-person somatic therapy in Austin, Texas, and online therapy throughout Texas.