Motherhood and the Echoes of Guilt: A Reflective Journey

The other day, I found myself in a heart-warming conversation with my mum. We were reminiscing about the past, spurred on by the curious resurgence of Balamory and my own children's endless fascination with "In the Night Garden".

What started as a light-hearted trip down memory lane soon turned into a shared moment of reflection—a look back at our years of motherhood, peppered with the ever-familiar sting of mummy guilt.

Growing up, I was well aware that my parents weren’t exactly rolling in it. I’d see friends flaunting the latest toys, clothes, and gadgets—things that seemed just out of reach for us. But honestly? I never felt like I missed out. My parents worked hard to give us what we needed, and I can confidently say that my siblings and I have turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself! We’re resilient, grateful, and have a drive that no amount of bell-bottom jeans or butterfly hair clips could ever provide.

Yet, despite the strong, capable adults my siblings and I have become, my mum, like so many of us, still wrestles with the same guilt that haunts most mothers. It’s that nagging feeling that she could have done more, should have done more—more time spent together, more activities, more holidays. It’s as if the brain has a selective memory, filtering out the countless sacrifices and hard work to highlight the “what ifs” and “if onlys.”

As a mother now, I get it. I really do. The relentless balancing act of trying to keep a roof over our heads, food on the table, and enough petrol in the car to get through just one more school run. There were days where surviving until bedtime felt like a Herculean task. We are so busy just getting through the day that we can’t always see the bigger picture—the happy, healthy children who feel loved and supported. Instead, we hyper-focus on the swim classes we missed or the forgotten PE kits, as if these small blips are the measure of our worth as mothers.

And let’s be honest, most of us won’t get a “do-over” with another batch of kids to raise. Our mothering era, in all its messy, chaotic glory, is a one-shot deal. And so, we look back with fond memories, yes, but also with that unshakeable guilt that we should have done more, been better.

But here’s the thing: motherhood, like everything else, is a journey. The choices I made in my 20s and 30s, I made with the knowledge and resources I had at the time. Sure, some decisions make me cringe now, but society has changed, and so have I.

The one constant? The unyielding love I have for my children and the desire to shield them from life’s hardships. In those early years, when you’re deep in the trenches, you’re making the best decisions you can to get everyone through the day intact. And that, in itself, is an achievement.

So, to my mum, and to all the mums out there still carrying around that sack of guilt: You’re doing great. We’re all doing great. Motherhood isn’t easy. We will make mistakes—plenty of them. But if those mistakes are made with an open heart and the best of intentions, are they really mistakes? Or just the inevitable, sometimes messy, beautifully imperfect reality of raising humans while being human ourselves?

Next time you find yourself looking back with a critical eye, remember this: our children won’t remember every swim lesson we missed or every rushed dinner we served. They’ll remember the love, the laughter, and the countless ways we showed up for them, day after day. That’s what really matters. And in that, my friends, we have done more than enough.

Much love always