Can I be honest about motherhood for a moment?

So…I've been thinking...

I don't think mothers need more advice. I think we need more honesty. Honesty has a way of reminding us that we're not nearly as alone as we think we are.

Because if I'm being honest, I think we've created this unspoken rule that there are certain things mothers just aren't supposed to say out loud. We're allowed to say we're tired. We're allowed to joke that motherhood is chaos. We're allowed to laugh about stepping on Legos, surviving on coffee, and never getting a moment to ourselves.

But there are other thoughts. The ones we replay in our heads while we're folding laundry, driving home from work, rocking a baby to sleep, or lying awake at night. Those thoughts stay hidden, not because they aren't real, but because we're terrified someone will misunderstand what we mean.

We're afraid that if we admit motherhood feels lonely, someone will hear, "She regrets becoming a mom." If we admit we're overwhelmed, someone will hear, "She isn't grateful." If we admit we miss the woman we were before becoming a mother, someone will hear, "She doesn't love her children."

But that's not what we're saying.

Not even close.

We're saying motherhood changed us, and sometimes we're still trying to figure out who we became.

Motherhood looks different for every woman. Some become mothers through birth. Some through adoption. Some have one child. Some have five. Some return to work. Some stay home. Some have a partner beside them every step of the way. Some carry the weight alone.

Our stories aren't the same. They were never meant to be.

But somewhere inside all of our different stories, our hearts seem to ask the same questions.

Am I doing enough?

Why don't I feel like myself anymore?

Is everyone else handling this better than I am?

When do I get a piece of myself back?

Am I the only one thinking this?

I don't think motherhood is as lonely as we make it feel.

I think silence is what makes it lonely.

When nobody talks about the hard parts, we assume everyone else is doing just fine. Then social media comes along and convinces us even more. We scroll through beautiful family photos, clean homes, homemade lunches, vacations, birthday parties, and mothers who seem to have endless patience. It's easy to believe everyone else has figured it out.

Maybe they have.

Or maybe they're carrying the exact same thoughts we are.

They just haven't said them out loud yet.

There's another question I've been thinking about lately.

People ask me all the time,

"Isn't motherhood so much fun?"

And every time someone asks me that, I find myself pausing.

Not because they're wrong. But because I don't know how to answer it honestly.

If I'm being completely truthful... There are moments that are incredibly fun.

The belly laughs. The bedtime cuddles. Watching your child experience something for the very first time. Hearing, "I love you, Mommy." Those moments are unforgettable.

But motherhood itself?

It isn't something I'd describe with just one word. If I had to choose one, it probably wouldn't be fun.

I'd describe motherhood as:

• Joyful.

• Exhausting.

• Heartbreaking.

• Ordinary.

• Beautiful.

• Overwhelming.

Sometimes all of those things before noon.

And it’s because you're not just raising another human being.

You're trying to raise them while managing your own emotions, your hormones, your mental health, your relationships, your career, your finances, your identity....and somehow remembering that you're a person, too.

If you have more than one child, multiply that. If you're parenting on your own, multiply it again.

So when people ask if motherhood is fun...I think they're really asking about the highlights. Because the highlights are beautiful.

But no one asks about the thousands of ordinary moments in between or the mental checklist that's constantly running through your head.

The planning.

The worrying.

The mental checklist that never really turns off.

The invisible work no one sees.

It's not that motherhood isn't beautiful. It's that beautiful and hard were never meant to compete with each other.

They're allowed to exist together.

Sometimes I wonder if we've spent so much time telling mothers to enjoy every second...

...that we've forgotten to tell them it's okay if some seconds are simply hard.

Because motherhood isn't hard because we don't love our children.

It's hard because we love them so deeply that every part of us is invested in giving them the best we have. And that's a weight worth talking about. Because maybe the thoughts we're actually afraid to admit sound more like this...

"I love my child with everything I have... but today, I don't particularly like them."

"I wish someone else could be in charge today."

"I wish I could clock out for just one day and come back tomorrow feeling like myself again."

"I'm overstimulated."

"I don't want anyone to need anything from me for the next hour."

"I miss having time to think."

"I miss the version of me that existed before everyone needed a piece of me."

"I love my family... but I want to be alone right now"

Those thoughts don't make you a bad mother. They make you a human one.

That's why I created Ignited Essence.

Not because I have motherhood figured out.

I don't.

Not because I have all the answers.

I don't.

I created this because I wanted a place where mothers could stop editing themselves. A place where we could stop pretending every day is beautiful. A place where we could admit that sometimes motherhood is breathtaking and heartbreaking. Sometimes it's the greatest joy you've ever known and the hardest thing you've ever done.

Sometimes both before lunch.

I don't want this to be another website telling you who you should be as a mother. There are already enough voices doing that. What I hope you'll find here is something different: honest conversations, gentle encouragement, and practical tools that meet you where you are. Not where someone else thinks you should be.

Some days that might be a journal prompt that helps you sort through your thoughts. Some days it might be a worksheet, a reflection exercise, or a resource that connects you with additional support. Not because I believe there's a checklist for becoming the "perfect" mother, but because sometimes having the right tool at the right moment can help you feel just a little less overwhelmed.

Take what helps. Leave what doesn't.

This space isn't about doing motherhood perfectly. It's about reminding each other that we don't have to carry it perfectly, either.

I don't want you to leave this website thinking, "She has all the answers." I want you to leave thinking, "Someone finally said what I've been feeling."

Because if there's one thing I hope we learn together, it's this: The hard parts of motherhood aren't what separate us. Silence is.

And maybe healing begins the moment one mother is brave enough to say,

"Me too."

Sometimes we have these thoughts and immediately see them as proof that we're failing. We wonder if everyone else is handling motherhood better than we are. We start believing that because we're overwhelmed, exhausted, or struggling, maybe we're just not strong enough.

I've had those thoughts too.

I used to think struggling meant I wasn't handling motherhood very well. That if I felt overwhelmed, questioned myself, or wished for a break, it somehow meant I was falling short. But over time, I've realized something.

Maybe we've been measuring strength all wrong. Maybe strength isn't never questioning yourself. Maybe strength isn't enjoying every moment. Maybe strength isn't having endless patience or always knowing exactly what to do.

Maybe strength looks like getting out of bed on the days you don't feel like you have anything left to give. Maybe strength looks like making breakfast after another sleepless night. Maybe strength looks like showing up for your children while quietly carrying things no one else can see. Maybe strength looks like asking for help. Maybe strength looks like being honest enough to say, "Today is hard."

Because here's what I know...

Strong mothers aren't the ones who never struggle. They're the ones who keep loving through the struggle.

You don't have to hide your thoughts to prove you're a good mother. You don't have to pretend everything is okay to prove you're strong. And you don't have to carry shame for being honest about an experience that was never meant to be easy.

If anything, the fact that you continue to show up, day after day, even when you're tired, overwhelmed, or questioning yourself, isn't a sign of weakness. It's proof of your strength.

So if you've been measuring yourself by how little you struggle, I hope you'll choose a different measure. Measure yourself by your love. By your resilience. By the way you keep showing up. Because struggling isn't proof that you're weak.

Sometimes.….It's proof that you've been carrying more than anyone realizes.

🤍

To the Mom Who Needs This Today

If you've ever had a thought about motherhood that made you immediately feel guilty...

You're not the only one.

If you've ever smiled when someone asked how you were doing because it felt easier than explaining what was really going on...

You're not the only one.

If you've ever loved your child with everything in you while also wishing you could have just one hour where no one needed anything from you...

You're not the only one.

If you've ever wondered whether you're doing enough...Whether you're enough...Whether you'll ever feel like yourself again...

You're not the only one.

Those thoughts don't make you a bad mother. They don't make you ungrateful. They don't mean you love your children any less. They mean you're human. So if today feels heavy, don't judge yourself for it.

Be curious about it.

Be gentle with yourself.

And remember this:

You don’t have to earn the right to be honest. You already have it

With Grace,

Leigh Renee`

Let's Talk About It

One of the reasons I created Ignited Essence is because I don't want this to be another place where only one person shares their story. I want this to be a conversation. Because the more honestly we speak about motherhood, the less alone we all feel.

This is a space for the conversations we don’t have often enough.

Healing happens in conversation, not isolation

Whether you're sharing your story, offering encouragement, or simply letting another mother know she isn't alone, your voice matters. If you feel comfortable, we invite you to join the conversation.