The Invisible Pressure: Unhooking from the ‘Good Mother’ Myth

They come softly at first. Sometimes wrapped in curiosity. Sometimes cloaked in comparison. And always rooted in one thing: expectation.

“Are you still breastfeeding?”
“Is she sleeping through the night yet?”
“Is he crawling? Walking?”
“What words can she say?”
“Do you let him cry it out?”
“Are you back at work?”
“Is she in daycare or with you full-time?”

They sound innocent—like small talk. But they land like evaluations. Tiny scorecards disguised as concern. And if you’re not anchored deeply enough in your own truth, they can shake you. Make you second-guess your instincts. Send you scrolling, googling, spiraling.

Because behind every one of those questions lies a hidden message:

“There is a right timeline.”
“There is a right choice.”
“There is a right way to mother.”

And if you’re not doing it that way… then maybe you’re doing it wrong.

But here’s what I’ve learned—through lived experience, through tears, through hours spent whispering “you’re okay” more to myself than to my daughter:

There is no “right” way.
There is only your way.
And your child’s way.
And the relationship that forms between you when you stop performing and start listening.

When my daughter Atalanta was born, I had a million ideas about what I should do. What a “good mother” would do. I absorbed advice like air. I took notes. I followed schedules. I wanted to do it “right.” And then life happened. She slept when she wasn’t “supposed to.” She cried longer than the books allowed. She walked later than someone else’s baby. She refused the foods I thought she’d love. And she thrived anyway.

Because development is not a competition. And love is not measured in milestones. I began to ask different questions: Not “Is she doing what she should?” But “Is she curious?”, “Is she safe?”, “Is she loved in her own rhythm?”, “Am I present enough to notice her—not just manage her?”

And what about me?

Not “Am I back to my old self?”
But “Who am I becoming through this?”
“Can I meet myself with the same compassion I give her?”

Because motherhood isn’t just about raising someone else. It’s about raising yourself again, with more awareness this time.

So here’s what I want to say to every mother who feels that silent pressure:

You’re allowed to unsubscribe.From the “shoulds.” From the timelines. From the highlight reels.

You don’t owe anyone a spreadsheet of progress. You don’t need to perform competence. You don’t have to justify your choices to people who don’t live your days or hold your baby. You are allowed to move slowly. You are allowed to change your mind. You are allowed to trust your knowing more than someone else’s noise.

Because this isn’t about perfect.
It’s about presence.
And that? That’s more than enough.