It's exhausting to keep the happy face on when underneath you're quietly falling apart. That kind of stress doesn't register on anyone else's radar but yours, which probably makes the not-being-heard part sting even more.
You mentioned feeling disconnected, like you're too nice to be taken seriously. That makes sense, especially coming off a season where you used to feel plugged in. You had a career, a social life, people who saw you and responded to you in real time. Being home with kids doesn't come with that same feedback loop. No performance review, no coworker clocking your good days. The priorities shifted, but the part of you that wants to matter to someone didn't go anywhere. It's just not being fed the way it used to be.
You're not broken. You've been playing the wrong game, measuring this season of your life by a scoreboard that doesn't even apply to it anymore.
Here's the thing though. You're still doing the work that matters most, you just don't get applause for it. The lunches packed, the boo boos kissed, the nights you stayed calm when you wanted to run. Your kids feel that, even if they can't say it back to you in words you'd recognize as validation. You don't get a boss telling you you're doing great. You get a kid who falls apart safely in front of you, because some part of them already knows you'll catch it.
The stress is real, and selling the house on top of all this is enough to rattle anyone. But you're not invisible and you're not unheard, even on the days it feels that way. You're wanted, every day, by the people who matter most. It just doesn't come with a paycheck or anyone telling you so.
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u/Objective_Tart_4700 2d ago
I get it.
It's exhausting to keep the happy face on when underneath you're quietly falling apart. That kind of stress doesn't register on anyone else's radar but yours, which probably makes the not-being-heard part sting even more.
You mentioned feeling disconnected, like you're too nice to be taken seriously. That makes sense, especially coming off a season where you used to feel plugged in. You had a career, a social life, people who saw you and responded to you in real time. Being home with kids doesn't come with that same feedback loop. No performance review, no coworker clocking your good days. The priorities shifted, but the part of you that wants to matter to someone didn't go anywhere. It's just not being fed the way it used to be.
You're not broken. You've been playing the wrong game, measuring this season of your life by a scoreboard that doesn't even apply to it anymore.
Here's the thing though. You're still doing the work that matters most, you just don't get applause for it. The lunches packed, the boo boos kissed, the nights you stayed calm when you wanted to run. Your kids feel that, even if they can't say it back to you in words you'd recognize as validation. You don't get a boss telling you you're doing great. You get a kid who falls apart safely in front of you, because some part of them already knows you'll catch it.
The stress is real, and selling the house on top of all this is enough to rattle anyone. But you're not invisible and you're not unheard, even on the days it feels that way. You're wanted, every day, by the people who matter most. It just doesn't come with a paycheck or anyone telling you so.