Motherhood, Guilt, and the Myth of Getting It Right All the Time
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve gone to bed with that heavy pit of guilt.
Not because I wasn’t doing enough. But because I wasn’t doing it “right.”
Because I’d raised my voice. Or forgotten to be present. Or raged out at my husband in front of the kids over something super ridiculous.
I know how to regulate. I know how to hold space. And yet, when I’m tired - like so god damn tired - and overstimulated, I forget. I lose myself in the noise.
And afterward, I’m left with shame. Not the kind that moves us gently back into connection. The kind that says, You should know better.
The Myth of the Conscious, Perfect Mother
Many of us newer mothers live under a paradox: we’re told to be everything for our children, present, playful, calm, attached, conscious. But often with no village, no rest, and little acknowledgement of our own needs or capacity. These ideals are not only unrealistic, they’re often shaped by white, middle-class norms that leave little room for cultural, economic, or personal diversity too. For mothers of colour, the pressure is compounded by racism, systemic inequities, and harmful stereotypes, making the burden of “doing it right” even heavier and more invisible.
Psychologists call this the “intensive mothering” ideal. A belief that mothers must always prioritise their children’s emotional, physical, and developmental needs, no matter the cost to themselves. And it’s harming us.
A study in Frontiers in Psychology found that mothers who feel pressure to be perfect report higher burnout, especially when combined with maternal gatekeeping, stress, and work–life conflict.
In Australia, new data from The Parenthood shows that shame is one of the biggest barriers to mothers seeking help. It isolates us, erodes confidence, and increases vulnerability to postnatal depression and anxiety.
When Shame Becomes a Silent Companion
In my own journey, shame isn’t always loud. It didn’t scream. It lingers quietly:
An ache internally when I snapped.
A heaviness in my chest when I see my little chooks sleeping.
I forget that I am also going through something too! That at times I am navigating sleep deprivation, no nearby family, twins born after 11 years of infertility, a traumatic birth in many respects and the ache of trying to show up with presence when my nervous system feels frayed.
The Science: Shame Doesn’t Lead to Better Outcomes
Shame may feel like a motivator, something that keeps us striving to be better mothers but the research tells a different story. Rather than leading to growth or connection, shame tends to shut us down. It triggers our stress response, narrows our thinking, and undermines the very qualities we need to show up with presence and care.
When mothers experience shame, studies show they are more likely to feel chronically dysregulated, emotionally withdrawn, or reactive. This impacts their ability to attune to their children, not because they don’t care but because shame hijacks the nervous system. We are in survival mode at this point and any rationality goes out the window!
Shame also discourages help-seeking. Mothers who feel they’re “failing” are often the least likely to reach out for support fearing judgment, confirming their worst beliefs about themselves, or believing they should just try harder.
It also fuels perfectionism and overcompensation. Instead of encouraging repair or reflection, shame can trap mothers in cycles of people-pleasing, self-criticism, or maternal gatekeeping where they take on everything themselves, convinced they’re the only ones who can do it “right.” This not only leads to burnout but also pushes partners and support systems away. I know this one well too! The feeling that I am the only one who knows how to care for my children in the “perfect” way.
Most concerning of all, shame has been directly linked to postnatal depression and anxiety. A 2024 study in Personality and Individual Differences found that when a mother’s identity didn’t align with internalised ideals of the “good mother,” shame—not guilt—was the strongest predictor of emotional distress in the postpartum period.
The bottom line? Shame isn’t a path to better parenting. It’s a barrier to well-being, connection, and healing for mothers and their families alike.
Social Media Pushing Perfection
In a culture where curated “momfluencer” content is everywhere, it’s easy to forget that real motherhood is messy, layered, and often emotionally raw.
A 2024 study found that watching idealised motherhood online led to more feelings of insecurity and inadequacy in new mothers. Leading to feeling like a failure or more pressure to get it right.
A Soft Landing Into Self-Compassion
Here’s what helps me when I feel that pull into shame:
I remember I’m a mother and a human. I matter too.
I name what’s real. “I’m overstimulated” is not an excuse, it’s a nervous system truth.
I let go of the script. The idea of a “perfectly conscious” mother doesn’t leave room for the complexity of being human.
I return to my body. Even a hand to my heart, a breath into my belly, a barefoot moment outside.
I connect. With other mothers. With those who see me in my softness and strength.
Self-compassion doesn’t mean we don’t want to do better. It means we don’t weaponise our striving against ourselves.
Toward a Culture That Supports, Not Shames
If we want more connected and regulated mothers and children, we need a culture that:
Normalises imperfect, real motherhood
Encourages help-seeking without stigma
Shares truthful stories, not polished performances
Prioritises emotional support over judgment
Offers permission to rest, rage, grief and repair
Final Words
If you’ve felt the shame of not living up to the idea of the mother you thought you’d be - You’re not alone. I see you and I am you.
Like me you are moving gently, into a deeper truth.
With tenderness - Lauren
