NayaBisa

Author: Naya Bisa

  • The Mom Guilt I Never Talk About (But Know I Should)

    The Mom Guilt I Never Talk About (But Know I Should)

    I was sitting on the bathroom floor at 3 PM on a Wednesday, eating a granola bar that had been in my purse for at least two weeks, while my three-year-old banged on the door asking for a snack she would not eat. I had not showered. I had snapped at my partner that morning for leaving a single dish in the sink. And the voice in my head , the one that never seems to take a day off , was telling me I was failing at the most important job I had ever been given.

    Mom guilt. It is not just a phrase. It is a weight that sits on your chest while you are trying to breathe through another chaotic day.

    And here is the thing: we do not talk about it enough. Not really. We make jokes about wine o’clock and messy buns, but underneath the humor is something raw and real that deserves more than a punchline.

    The Guilt I Carry

    I feel guilty when I work. I feel guilty when I do not work. I feel guilty when I am present with my kids but my mind is elsewhere. I feel guilty when I am fully focused on work and not thinking about my kids at all.

    I feel guilty when I lose my temper , which happens more often than I would like to admit. I feel guilty ten minutes later when I am hugging them and apologizing, wondering if I have already done damage that cannot be undone.

    I feel guilty comparing myself to other mothers. The one at school pickup who always looks put together. The one on social media whose house is somehow always clean. The one who seems to genuinely enjoy playing on the floor for hours while I count down the minutes until nap time.

    And perhaps the guilt I carry most heavily: the guilt of sometimes wanting to be somewhere else. Not forever. Just for an afternoon. A day. Long enough to remember who I was before I became “Mama.”

    Why We Stay Silent

    Part of the problem is that admitting these feelings feels dangerous. What if someone thinks I do not love my children? What if they judge me? What if saying it out loud makes it more real?

    But I have learned something important. Silence does not protect us. It isolates us. Every time I have been brave enough to tell another mom , a real friend, over coffee, with no filters , that I am struggling, the response has never been judgment. It has always been relief.

    “Me too.”

    “I thought I was the only one.”

    “Thank you for saying that.”

    Because here is the truth nobody tells you about motherhood: everyone feels this way sometimes. The difference is just who admits it and who buries it under a perfectly curated Instagram grid.

    What I Am Trying to Do Instead

    I am not writing this because I have figured it out. I am writing this because I am in the middle of it, and I suspect you might be too.

    But here are a few things I am practicing, slowly and imperfectly:

    Naming the guilt instead of swallowing it. When the voice starts telling me I am a bad mom because I let them watch an extra episode so I could finish a work email, I pause and say it out loud: “I am feeling guilty right now.” Just naming it takes some of its power away.

    Reminding myself that guilt does not equal truth. Feeling like a bad mom is not the same thing as being a bad mom. Guilt is an emotion, not an accurate assessment of my parenting.. I have talked about quitting the Pinterest mom competition, and it reinforced what I was learning.

    Finding one person I do not have to perform for. A friend who will not flinch when I admit that some days I count the minutes until bedtime. Someone who will laugh with me about the absurdity of it all instead of giving me a worried look.

    Letting good enough be good enough. The dishes can wait. The perfectly planned activity can be replaced by coloring books and a movie. My kids will not remember whether the living room was spotless. They will remember whether I was there , really there , even if only for twenty minutes at a time.

    To the Mom Reading This

    If you are carrying guilt today , about working, about not working, about losing your temper, about not being enough , I want you to know something.

    You are not failing. You are doing something impossibly hard without a manual, without enough support, and often without enough sleep. The guilt you feel is not proof that you are getting it wrong. It is proof that you care so deeply it hurts.

    And that , caring that much , is the opposite of failure.

  • How I Finally Stopped Burning Out: 5 Things I Actually Do

    How I Finally Stopped Burning Out: 5 Things I Actually Do

    Three months ago, I hit a wall. Not the metaphorical kind where you just need a good night’s sleep and some positive thinking. The real kind. The kind where you stare at your laptop screen for forty minutes without typing a single word. Where you cancel plans not because you are busy, but because the thought of putting on real pants feels impossible. Where you snap at your partner for breathing too loudly and then burst into tears because you cannot remember the last time you felt genuinely rested.

    Burnout. I had read about it. I had even written about it. But I did not truly understand it until I was living inside it.

    The recovery was slow and messy. It did not involve a single dramatic change or a magical productivity system. What actually worked were five small, unglamorous, surprisingly practical shifts that I am still practicing every single day.

    1. I Stopped Using My Phone as an Alarm Clock

    This one change rippled through my entire morning. Before, I would wake up to my phone alarm, immediately check notifications, scroll through emails in bed, and start my day already flooded with other people’s demands before my feet hit the floor.

    I bought a basic alarm clock for about fifteen dollars. My phone now charges in the living room overnight. The first thirty minutes of my day belong to me , not to Instagram, not to work emails, not to anyone else’s agenda.

    It sounds almost too simple to matter. But when you stop letting the outside world into your brain the moment you open your eyes, something shifts. You start the day as yourself, not as a responder.

    2. I Learned the Difference Between “Urgent” and “Important”

    Most of my burnout came from treating everything like it was on fire. The email that could wait until tomorrow? Urgent. The request from a colleague that was not actually time-sensitive? Urgent. The third load of laundry that could sit in the basket for another day? Somehow, also urgent.

    Now, when a task lands on my plate, I pause and ask one question: Will this matter in a week?

    If the answer is no, it goes to the bottom of the list , or off the list entirely. If the answer is yes, it gets my actual attention. This single question has probably saved me hundreds of hours of unnecessary stress.

    3. I Gave Myself Permission to Half-Finish Things

    This was the hardest one for me. I used to believe that if I started something, I had to finish it , and finish it well , before moving on. A clean kitchen meant every dish washed, every counter wiped, every floor swept. A completed work project meant every detail polished.

    But perfectionism is just procrastination wearing a fancy outfit. And often, half-done is better than not done at all.

    Now I let myself load the dishwasher and leave the pots to soak. I send the email that is 80% good enough instead of spending an extra hour perfecting the last 20%. I close my laptop at a reasonable hour even when there is more I could do , because there will always be more I could do.

    4. I Scheduled Rest Before I Scheduled Work

    Every Sunday evening, I open my calendar for the week ahead. And the first thing I block out is not meetings or deadlines or deep work sessions. It is rest.

    Tuesday afternoon: nothing. Thursday morning: protected. Saturday: completely clear.

    These are non-negotiable. Work has to fit around the rest, not the other way around. And here is what surprised me: when I started protecting my rest this aggressively, my productivity during work hours actually increased. A rested brain works faster and makes better decisions. Who knew?

    5. I Stopped Measuring My Worth by My Output

    This is the big one. The root. The thing everything else sits on top of.

    I spent years believing that my value as a person was directly connected to how much I produced. More articles written = more worthy. Cleaner house = better mother. Fuller calendar = more successful.

    But productivity is not identity. It is a tool. And a tool should serve you , you should not serve the tool.. I now use a two-hour work block system, and it reinforced what I was learning.

    Now, when I catch myself spiraling into output-as-self-worth thinking, I pause and remind myself: I am not valuable because of what I do. I am valuable because I exist. Full stop.

    Some days I genuinely believe that. Some days I am just going through the motions of saying it. But I keep saying it anyway, because I know the alternative , the version of me who burned out , and I do not want to go back there.

    If You Are Tired Right Now

    If you are reading this while running on fumes, I want you to hear something.

    You do not need a better productivity system. You do not need more discipline. You do not need to optimize your morning routine or download another app.

    You need rest. Real, unapologetic, guilt-free rest. The kind where you do absolutely nothing productive and feel zero shame about it.

    Start there. The rest can wait.