Parenthood can be overwhelming in a million ways. We land up doing things that are hurting us without realising it. And then one day you look up and realise you don’t recognise the person in the mirror.
Motherhood has a way of folding you into routines, snack boxes, school timetables, missing shoes and to-do lists that are never ending. We don’t lose ourselves in one sharp moment. It happens in small shifts. So getting back to me was going to be a slow, gradual process as well.
This year, instead of waiting to feel like me again, I started doing tiny things for the version of me who still exists somewhere under the laundry pile. It wasn’t a glow-up. It was a gentle return.
1. I started saying “no” to one thing every week
Mums everywhere feel overwhelmed by the constant planning and organising of events, schedules and usual family life. The pressure to constantly say yes and be present at every social activity can be too much for some. I’ve taken up saying “no” to one activity over the last few weeks. Not grand, dramatic no’s. Not speeches. Quiet, everyday no moments. No to another WhatsApp group. No to adding more to a weekend. No to tasks I’d never volunteered for but somehow inherited anyway.
One “no” a week didn’t change the world. But it changed my breathing. It gave me proof I still get a say in what takes up space in my life.
2. I deleted the “perfect” morning routine from Pinterest
I once tried the champagne brunch version of a morning routine. You know the type. Journaling while the sun rises, a skincare routine with 14 acts, tea brewed by woodland nymphs, the children independently solving maths equations with calm energy. It lasted a day and a half.
So I stopped following trends and focused on what made me feel-good. My real routine looks more like shoes, snacks, hair brushed if possible and out the door. My days got lighter when my expectations did.
3. I went for a walk alone, without a podcast
For the longest time, I felt silences needed to be filled with something productive – audio books, podcasts or music. One afternoon I left the house without headphones. No guidance, no playlists, no self-improvement monologue. Just cold air and my own thoughts. And it felt calming and relaxing. Spending time in nature has shown to reduce mental fatigue and assist with mental reset.
The real surprise wasn’t the calm. It was remembering I have my own inner voice underneath all the noise.
4. I let my kids help, even when it got messy
I used to treat “help” like a euphemism for “double the work, triple the mess”. And while that part is factually correct, something else is true too. Children who take part in household tasks are more confident and independent.
So I eased up. I let them stir pancake batter into avant-garde art. I let the towels be folded into abstract origami. It turns out doing everything for everyone was draining me faster than cleaning up spills ever could.
5. I finally booked family photos and stopped hiding behind the camera
There is a five-year gap in photos where I exist only by my voice telling people to smile. I joked about being “the photographer”, but secretly I wondered if anyone would notice I was gone from the frames.
This year, I booked family photos. No poses. No pressure. No “tilt your head 12 degrees into the light” stress. The kids were just themselves, I stopped worrying about angles, and the photos felt like us – real, messy and happy. It reminded me how special it is to have something you can hold in your hands, not just swipe past on a screen. If you are also tired of being the invisible photographer, you can check out photography packages at www.myphotosforever.co.uk/ to capture your own real, everyday joy.
6. I reconnected with an old friend
Friendship in motherhood can start to feel like a someday task. One day we’ll talk properly. One day we’ll get drinks. One day we’ll have a conversation with no interruptions. One day becomes months. Months become years.
As mums, we all feel lonely – almost 43% of us. The moment I felt it the most was the moment I messaged a friend without a plan, without an explanation for being absent, without a booked time slot. Just a hello. We met for a muddy pram walk and coffee. And it felt like no time had passed. It mattered more than a perfectly planned evening ever would have.
7. I bought something second-hand that made me ridiculously happy
Not something sensible. Not something required. Not something chosen with filters like durability, practicality, wipe-clean surface, BPA-free joy metrics. Just something that made me smile in the shop mirror. For me, it was a coat with large buttons. There was no logic to it. I bought it because it felt like me. Not mum-me or responsible-me. Me-me.
8. I wrote down three things that went right each week
Not gratitude essays. Not personal development chronicles. Three small truths, scribbled on Sundays. It was small things like the oven timer beeped before smoke appeared, library books returned on time, and a cup of tea was finished before going cold. Tiny positive reflection has been linked to improved wellbeing over time. I didn’t need a transformation. I just needed evidence that life still has soft, good edges.
9. I stopped comparing myself to other mums online
Comparison in motherhood rarely has positive outcomes. It wears us down and impacts our confidence. Pinterest homes with neutral linens, or edited kitchens and a perfectly curated home didn’t feel like me.
I didn’t make a speech about leaving the internet. I made quieter moves. Unfollow. Mute. Close app. Live life. The more I reduced screen time, the more I recognised myself again. Reality made me feel more grateful for my home, family and friends.
10. I realised peace looks a lot more like laughter than silence
I used to think peace wore calm socks and whispered. Now I know peace runs through the house at full volume holding jam on toast, laughing for reasons only children understand. Peace is not quiet in our house. Peace is unlocked front doors, mismatched plates, inside jokes, chaotic dinners, and bedtime stories that turn silly. Peace is being here for it.
Closing thoughts
This year, I didn’t bring back the old me. It introduced me to the current me. Tired, softer, slower, louder, wiser, better at spotting joy, worse at pretending everything is polished. I didn’t overhaul my life. I gently edited it.
If you’re reading this and wondering where you went, you didn’t go anywhere. You got layered under life. And here’s the kind part: you don’t need to dig with drama to find yourself again. You only need to do one small thing that feels like you and brings you joy. Then another. Then another. The rest follows.
