A Mother’s Voice Matters

I see this so often.
Mothers, especially newborn mothers or even two years into their baby’s life,
feeling like their voice, their emotions and their lived experience somehow do not matter.
They are moving through enormous inner shifts, trying to process everything that has changed
and yet the world responds to them as though nothing has changed at all.

They feel misunderstood.
They feel unheard.
They feel like no one is truly seeing the depth of what they are carrying.

And on top of that internal storm, they are trying to meet everyone else’s expectations:
caring for the baby, keeping the house running, navigating the weight of unspoken pressure, trying to hold boundaries that no one seems willing to respect.
Often, those boundaries are received as attacks,
when in truth they are simply a mother trying to protect the tiny pieces of herself that are still intact.

And then comes the sentence people love to offer:
“I’m so sorry you are going through this. I’m here to help!”

For a mother who has been drowning, those words feel like a lifeline.
She finally exhales.
She lets herself believe that someone is truly showing up for her.
She opens her heart just a little, enough to say “Yes, I do need help”, and she begins to name the things she needs.

But here is what I wish people understood:
If you are not ready to meet a mother exactly where she is, please do not offer those words.

Because she will take you seriously.
She will trust that promise.
She will tell you what she truly needs,
not the quick, easy, surface-level version, but the real support that sustains her.

And too often, the moment the help becomes inconvenient,
the moment it takes longer than expected,
the moment the emotional labour becomes visible,
people retreat.

They get to tap out.
She does not.

She keeps going…
tired, stretched thin, carrying the mental load for herself, her baby, her healing, her home, her entire world.
And the message she receives over and over again is:
Your needs are too much.
Your boundaries are inconvenient.
Your feelings do not matter here.

Yet mothers do not need more advice.
They do not need more contradicting opinions.
They do not need someone questioning their instincts or making them feel like they are doing motherhood wrong.

They need validation.
They need support that feels real.
They need someone to look them in the eyes and say, “You are doing incredibly. Truly. Now tell me, how can I help?”
And then show up with intention.

Because when the opposite keeps happening
When the support is shallow
When people offer help only to pull away the moment it becomes uncomfortable

That is when mothers begin believing the untruths that have been reflected back to them again and again:

What I am feeling does not matter.
What I am saying does not matter.
No one actually wants to help me.
They just want to feel like the kind of person who offers help.

But mothers deserve more than that.
They deserve honesty.
They deserve support that matches the promise.
They deserve people who stay even when it is not easy.
They deserve to be believed when they say they are struggling.

And above all, they deserve to know deeply, unquestionably, that their voice matters.

Always.