I’m Breaking and They Don’t Even Know It

Motherhood isn’t always pretty. It’s not always gentle or peaceful. Sometimes it’s survival, pure survival. You wake up with your mind already racing, your chest tight, your thoughts heavy. You don’t get the luxury of breaking down because there are little eyes watching, waiting on you to show them everything’s okay, even when it’s not.

No one really talks about the mothers who are battling their own demons while trying to raise children in the middle of the storm. The ones who plaster on a smile while their hearts are quietly falling apart. The ones who go to bed crying only to wake up and do it all over again because, well, who else will?

Some days I feel like I’m barely hanging on. Like I’m running on empty, trying to keep everything together when I can barely keep myself together. My body moves on autopilot, fix breakfast, do hair, clean up, repeat. But my mind, it’s tired. My soul feels like it’s been through war.

And yet, I keep going. Not because I’m unbreakable, but because I refuse to let my pain raise my kids. I don’t want them growing up seeing a mother who gave up when life got too heavy. I want them to see a woman who fought through the worst parts of herself just to give them a chance at peace.

The world doesn’t see the behind-the-scenes moments, the silent tears in the shower, the panic attacks in the car, the nights where the weight of everything makes it hard to breathe. They don’t see the prayers whispered at 2 a.m., the “God, please help me make it through tomorrow” kind of prayers.

They don’t see how heavy it is to be the backbone of a family when your own spine feels like it’s cracking.

Sometimes I wonder who checks on the strong moms, the ones who carry everyone else but have no one to fall on. The ones who laugh so no one asks if they’re okay. The ones who push through even when it feels like the world is closing in.

Being a mom of four isn’t easy. It’s love and chaos and exhaustion all wrapped together. It’s sacrificing your peace so your kids can have joy. It’s crying quietly after tucking them in because you don’t want them to think they’re the reason you’re tired, when really, they’re the only reason you keep going.

Every day I’m fighting battles nobody can see. But I remind myself, my kids are watching. They’re learning strength through me. They’re learning that even when life hurts, you don’t stop showing up.

Motherhood isn’t about perfection. It’s about perseverance. It’s about loving through the pain, growing through the struggle, and finding yourself again after every breakdown.

And maybe one day, when my kids are older, they’ll understand. They’ll look back and realize that even when I was broken, I still chose them. I still chose love. I still chose to fight for a better life, even when I didn’t have the energy to fight for myself.

Because that’s what motherhood really is, not the picture-perfect smiles or matching outfits. It’s the raw, unfiltered strength it takes to keep going when your heart is heavy but your love is heavier.

So if you see a mom who looks tired, don’t assume she’s weak. She might just be the strongest person you’ll ever meet.

🎙️When She Speaks