Dear You, The Mum Who Doesn’t Know What Else to Try

I know you're exhausted.

Not the kind of tired that sleep can fix—but the kind that settles deep in your bones, born from carrying too much, too long, with no roadmap and no rest.

You didn’t sign up to be a crisis manager, a therapist, a teacher, a detective, a full-time emotional sponge.
But here you are. Showing up. Every single day. Even when it feels like nothing is working.

Your child isn’t “too much.”
And you aren’t “not enough.”
You’re both just human—doing your best to breathe inside a world that doesn’t always make space for difference, overwhelm, or softness.

Please hear this:

You are not failing.
You are feeling.
And that means your heart is still wide open—even when it’s hurting.

Yes, it’s heartbreaking to watch your child suffer.
To see them stuck, screaming, melting, avoiding, surviving.
To wonder if anything you try will ever make it easier.

You miss the version of them who laughed. Who reached for your hand.
You miss the version of you who had energy left over at the end of the day.

But mama, please know—
You’re not broken because your family looks different.
You’re not behind because progress is invisible.
You’re not less-than because joy feels out of reach.

This season is brutal, not because you’re doing it wrong, but because it asks so much—and gives so little back.

So here’s a breath.
A pause.
A permission slip to fall apart sometimes.

Because you deserve support too.
Not after you’ve solved it all.
But right now. In the mess. In the in-between.

You’re allowed to grieve.
You’re allowed to rage.
You’re allowed to whisper, “I don’t know what else to do.”

None of that makes you a bad mother.

It makes you real.

And in your fierce, imperfect, aching love—you are doing something holy.

So take this love letter as your reminder:

You are a good mum.
A tired mum. A stretched mum. A human mum.
But still—a good one.

And right now, that is more than enough. 💛

With tenderness,
The Self-Care Love Letter Project

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