Why Am I So Tired? Understanding the Hidden Forces Behind Mom Burnout
“Why am I so tired?"
this refrain echoes through every space I am in with other mothers. I’m hearing this from clients, friends, in mom groups, everywhere. We talk about perimenopause, poor sleep, diet, and vitamin deficiencies but while these factors matter, they miss the bigger picture: mothers are experiencing a convergence of forces that have created a perfect storm, and until we name it, we can't begin to address it.
You wake up exhausted before your feet hit the floor. Your mind immediately racing and jumping to everyone else's needs: the outgrown jacket, the client calls, the upcoming school breaks, the aging parents who need more support. By 7 AM, you've already made seventeen decisions that no one else will notice or thank you for. You feel stretched so thin you're sure you're translucent.
If you're nodding along, you're not alone. All the women I work with, whether they're leading companies, staying home with children, running practices, or juggling multiple roles, are experiencing this same bone-deep fatigue.
The Weight We're Actually Carrying
Let's get honest about what's on your plate right now. You're not just managing your family and career; you're navigating a world where the ground fell out under our feet, amplifying already broken structural issues.
Collective trauma unfolding in real time.
Since 2016, we've been living through a sustained period of societal upheaval. The world started spinning too fast: information comes at us relentlessly, political divisions feel insurmountable, and our basic sense of safety has been disrupted. We entered a state of collective overwhelm that became divisive, making it harder to see each other as humans and fracturing families and communities.
As a psychologist, I witnessed and personally experienced the collective grief many clients reported feeling. Not because of specific political parties, but because the behavior and rhetoric we're seeing modeled feels familiar to anyone who's experienced emotional abuse. The Me Too movement brought painful recognition of how pervasive sexual harassment and assault really are— like wallpaper in the background of most women's lives. The ongoing attacks on women's rights compound this sense of threat and instability. If you're in a helping profession or running a heart-centered business, this amplifies the burden, you feel responsible for healing the world while your own well is running dry.
The pandemic amplified what was already breaking.
Three years of chronic uncertainty layered onto an already destabilized system rewired our brains for hypervigilance. For those parenting through this upheaval, it was even more profound. Even as restrictions lifted, our bodies remained braced for the next crisis.
The invisible load of modern motherhood.
As I wrote about on Labor Day, research shows that mothers carry 71% of the mental load of family management. This cognitive labor has become more complex, layered with pressure to be perfect for our children's development:
Can't send cupcakes to school, so now we create elaborate birthday bags with plastic trinkets
Halloween costumes require Pinterest perfection instead of store-bought options
Balancing screen time without being too restrictive
Practicing attachment parenting without creating entitled children
Every milestone has become a performance of parental adequacy that we always feel like we're failing
This cognitive load requires constant mental gymnastics, navigating impossible contradictions through endless microdecisions with no clear right answers.
Economic pressures that compound stress
Whether you're working out of necessity or choice, you're likely working harder for less security than previous generations had. For some families, just keeping everyone fed and housed feels overwhelming; for others, the pressure comes from wondering if there's ever room for investing in yourself.
When the Ground Disappears Beneath Your Feet
Here's what's really happening: we're trying to raise children and maintain families without solid ground beneath us. The shared narratives, institutions, and social contracts that previous generations could rely on feel uncertain or compromised. We're parenting without a stable foundation, which requires enormous emotional and psychological resources.
This groundlessness affects everything: from how we explain current events to our children, to how we navigate relationships with family members whose worldviews have become incompatible with ours. We're constantly switching between protecting our children's innocence and preparing them for reality, a new form of navigation that compounds the existing burden for mothers who already code-switch for survival due to race, socioeconomic status, or other marginalized identities.
When Burnout Becomes Spiritual Depletion
Here's what happens when these external pressures meet your internal landscape: burnout becomes spiritual depletion. You stop being able to access the parts of yourself that feel alive, creative, and purposeful. You're surviving, but you're not thriving.
Spiritual depletion shows up as feeling disconnected from your values, going through the motions without joy, losing access to your intuition, and feeling like you've disappeared beneath all your roles and responsibilities.
This isn't clinical depression, though it can feel similar. It's what happens when your soul is undernourished while your schedule is overpacked.
The Myth of Individual Solutions
Here's where most wellness advice gets it wrong: it treats burnout as an individual problem requiring individual solutions. "Just practice self-care," they say. "Set boundaries. Say no more often."
But how do you say no when your elderly parent needs care? How do you set boundaries when your clients are in crisis? How do you practice self-care when your child is having a meltdown and needs you?
The truth is, what we're experiencing isn't personal failure—it's systemic breakdown. We're living in a society that has privatized and devalued caregiving, making it an individual woman's responsibility to manage what should be community and institutional support systems while receiving little recognition or support for this essential work.
What Real Recovery Looks Like
Authentic recovery from burnout requires a fundamental shift in how you relate to yourself and your responsibilities.
First, you need to acknowledge what you're actually carrying. Make the invisible visible by writing down everything you manage, not just tasks, but the mental and emotional labor of anticipating, planning, and coordinating.
Second, you need to reconnect with your body's wisdom. Burnout lives in the nervous system, and recovery requires embodied practices that help you move from hypervigilance to presence.
Third, you need to examine the internal patterns that keep you depleted. Many of us have parts of ourselves that say "yes" when we need to say "no." These patterns developed for good reasons, but they may no longer serve you.
Finally, you need community. You cannot heal in isolation what was created in relationship.
Rest as Revolution
In a culture that equates your worth with your productivity, choosing to rest is a radical act. Real rest isn't just sleep—it's the deep restoration that comes from being seen, held, and valued for who you are rather than what you do.
The Path Forward
If you recognize yourself in these words, know this: your exhaustion is not your fault, and it's not permanent. What you're experiencing is a natural response to unnatural circumstances.
In upcoming articles, we'll dive deeper into the specific challenges facing modern mothers. Next week, I'll share why your well-being isn't optional: it's essential for your family's survival, along with practical strategies for protecting your energy. We'll also explore the grief mothers are still carrying from COVID, the myth of the "good mother," and why our internal protective systems keep us stuck in exhausting patterns.
Because here's what I know after twenty years of walking alongside women in this work: you have everything you need within you to reclaim your vitality. You just need the right container to remember who you are beneath all you do.
The question isn't whether you deserve rest and restoration—you absolutely do. The question is: are you ready to claim it?
References:
Daminger, A. (2019). The cognitive dimension of household labor. American Sociological Review, 84(4), 609-633.
Grinberg, E., & Horton, A. (2021). Associations of perceived partisan polarization with physical and mental health outcomes. Social Science & Medicine, 284, 114128.
Raj, A. (2024). #MeToo harassment survey 2024. Tulane University Newcomb Institute
U.S. Surgeon General's Advisory on the Mental Health & Well-Being Crisis (2021).
Dr. Jen Schroeder is a licensed clinical psychologist, mom of twins, and founder of InPowered Therapy + Yoga who helps exhausted mothers remember who they are beneath all their roles. Having lived the cycle of depletion herself, she believes you deserve more than just surviving.
