The Mother Load: The Invisible Weight Women Carry

Motherhood wasn’t something I planned. But I didn’t choose it out of guilt or to meet societal expectations either. I had always imagined my life would be my career and vice versa. 

A few years before I fell pregnant, I lost my mother to cancer and felt an emptiness so deep, I thought I’d succumb to loneliness. Truthfully, I chose motherhood because I thought it would fill that void.

Why do we become mothers? 

“The motivations behind choosing motherhood are deeply multifaceted, shaped by biological, cultural, and deeply personal factors. Biologically, maternal instincts are rooted in evolutionary psychology—humans are wired to ensure the survival and continuation of the species,” says Lian Ma. Kolbe Luceña-Gaspi, RPsy, CCT, a psychologist from MindNation and a certified clinical traumatologist.

However, for her, the decision to become a mother is not limited to biology. “At its core, I see the essence of motherhood as coming from the heart—the desire to nurture, raise a child with love and values, and create a safe space for growth. It is a profound commitment,” she adds. “Choosing motherhood is deeply personal, and every woman’s journey—whether toward or away from motherhood—is equally valid and worthy of respect.”

The mother ideal

Once I became a mother, I realized it became a job, a role I had to perform, from the moment of conception until I learned I had to stop performing.

My journey from expectant to actual mother was far from perfect. It was lonely, messy, uncomfortable, and often physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting. A far cry from how motherhood is often idealized in culture and media as beautiful, fulfilling, and central to a woman’s identity.  

“The way culture idealizes motherhood is dangerous,” explains Rica Cruz, RPsy, PhD, ACS, ABS, the first Filipino board-certified diplomate in clinical sexology, and founder and CEO of Unprude. “It paints a perfect picture, then shocks women when the real thing happens. It doesn’t prepare them for the hardships, the things they have to give up, and the grief of losing a part of themselves.”

We survived my son’s early years and his many firsts—from his first birthday to our first trip abroad—which I planned and organized, down to a color-coded itinerary on a Google spreadsheet.

When my son’s other parent found a job overseas, we stayed in Manila while she settled abroad. At the time, I was running a start-up, managing a household without help, and parenting a child about to start at a new school. On the outside, I looked like I had it all together. 

But no one saw that I was running on less than five hours of sleep. No one saw me walking the dogs before I was fully awake, cooking breakfast at 2 A.M. after a late night at work, reviewing homework during dinner, making sure my son was tucked in by 10 P.M., or keeping the house clean. But I still showed up to work. I dressed up for work events. I attended every school affair.

I held space for everyone and everything except myself. 

The invisible load 

From girlhood, we’re taught that mothers manage everything for their children, families, and homes. Meanwhile, a modern iteration of feminism promised us we could do it all: raise kids, run households, and thrive in our careers. And we wonder why we’re burnt out.

As a first-time mom herself, Luceña-Gaspi feels the invisible load everyday—not just from the physical tasks, but also the constant mental checklist running in the background. “I’m always thinking ahead: when the next feeding is, if there are enough diapers, how to manage doctor’s appointments, tracking milestones, making sure my baby is safe, and juggling all of that with household tasks.” 

“From a psychological perspective, this invisible load is a form of cognitive and emotional labor that significantly impacts mental health. Constant multitasking keeps a mother’s stress response activated, leading to mental fatigue, irritability, anxiety, or even burnout. When this labor is unrecognized, mothers may feel undervalued or unsupported, which research shows can contribute to postpartum depression and relationship strain.” 

“Why didn’t you just ask for help?” In my case, I never asked because it was never offered. I was also sold on the illusion that I had to do just as my mother did—she was my only reference for both motherhood and parenting. 

My pride was in being a career-driven mother. I beamed when people asked, “How do you do it all?” as if it were a badge of honor. But no one saw my anger, except maybe my son, who sometimes bore the brunt of my exhaustion. No one saw my chronic pain, my growing list of medications, or my mental health quietly suffering.

How to cope

Luceña-Gaspi stresses the importance of having honest conversations to relieve the pressure mothers feel to do everything perfectly. This also helps them feel validated and supported. 

Dr. Cruz adds that having coping strategies and support systems help with feelings of isolation and being overwhelmed. “Having a mom group, even a small circle of ‘ranting moms,’ as I like to call them, can save you,” she says. “Knowing others understand your struggles makes the load so much lighter.”

Too often, mothers shrink themselves in the name of love, sometimes losing their sense of self in the process. Luceña-Gaspi reminds us to acknowledge that we are no longer the same person before we had children. This process is called matrescence—similar to adolescence—where hormones, emotions, and life roles shift dramatically, impacting a woman’s sense of self. 

When left unacknowledged, this can lead to feelings of loss, guilt or isolation. “It’s important to hold on to parts of yourself that keep you whole: interests, friendships, and dreams outside of motherhood,” says Luceña-Gaspi. 

How does one manage this? By understanding that motherhood adds layers to one’s identity. By reframing motherhood as an expansion of identity rather than a loss, mothers can feel more empowered and confident.

Other ways you could manage these challenges in healthy and affirming ways may include undergoing therapy and being open to change instead of fighting it; you could also prioritize self-care, set boundaries, seek social support, and engage in activities that let you reconnect to your individuality. 

“It’s been about finding balance: honoring the woman I was, embracing the mother I am becoming, and allowing myself to grow through this journey,” says Luceña-Gaspi. 

Coming to terms 

Motherhood may not have been part of my plan. And yes, in the beginning, I chose it to overcome the grief of losing my own. But what I’ve come to learn is that being a mother isn’t just about raising your child, it’s about learning to parent yourself. 

To fill your own cup without expecting your child or anyone else to do it for you.

In contrast to what I was taught growing up, motherhood showed me that I don’t need to come last. It teaches you to ask for help because feminism isn’t just about being strong, independent women and mothers. It’s also about accepting our vulnerabilities and embracing our softness. 

Dr. Cruz emphasizes the important role partners, workplaces, and communities play. “[They] need to see motherhood as an ongoing role that deserves ongoing care. Without that, burnout feels almost inevitable.”

Because in the end, raising a child truly does take a village. 

And mothers deserve to be part of that village, too.