Let’s talk about anxiety.
Not the textbook kind — the mom version. The version that creeps in while you’re folding laundry or staring at the baby monitor at 3 a.m. The kind that doesn’t always look like panic attacks or worst-case-scenario thinking… but still takes up space in your mind and your body.
Because here’s the thing: anxiety in motherhood is sneaky. It doesn’t always shout. Sometimes it whispers so quietly that you barely notice it… until you’re drowning in it.
Let’s name a few of the common (but often overlooked) ways anxiety shows up for moms:
1. Constantly feeling like you should be doing more.
You finally sit down with a cup of tea and your brain says: “You forgot to send that email. You haven’t played with the kids enough today. The dishwasher needs unloading. Why are you sitting?”
That buzzing in your chest? That tightness in your shoulders? That’s not just “mom guilt.” That’s anxiety, whispering that rest = failure.
2. Overplanning every little detail.
You pack three different snack options “just in case.” You check the weather, the traffic, the reviews. You mentally rehearse every possible tantrum scenario before even leaving the house.
It feels like being responsible. But really? It’s anxiety trying to convince you that if you just plan enough, nothing bad will happen.
Spoiler: That’s a lie.
3. Irritability that makes you feel ashamed.
You snap at your partner. You clench your jaw when your toddler throws peas on the floor. You feel on edge all. day. long. And then the guilt hits hard.
But here’s what many people miss: anxiety doesn’t always look like fear. Sometimes it looks like anger.
When your nervous system is on high alert, it doesn’t leave much room for patience.
4. Scrolling endlessly, but never feeling better.
You open Instagram for “a break” — but twenty minutes later, you feel worse. Everyone looks like they have it more together. And suddenly you’re spiraling about screen time, or your body, or how you haven’t done sensory play since last Tuesday.
That loop? That’s anxiety feeding on comparison and perfectionism.
5. The inability to make a simple decision.
What’s for dinner? Should you go to that playdate? Do you really need to call the doctor about that runny nose that won’t go away?
Anxiety often shows up as mental paralysis — second-guessing every tiny choice because the stakes feel so high.
6. The mental running to-do list that never shuts off.
You’re playing with your child, but your mind is sorting through appointments, groceries, the email you forgot to respond to, the laundry that still needs folding.
Even when nothing is wrong, your brain feels like a browser with 27 tabs open. That’s anxiety disguised as “being on top of things;” that being organized = control.
7. Feeling like you’re failing at everything — even when you’re doing your best.
You made dinner, kept the kids alive, answered emails… and somehow still feel like you didn’t do enough.
Anxiety loves to whisper, “You should be better at this.” It lies. You’re doing a lot — it just doesn’t feel like enough when you’re running on stress.
8. Difficulty enjoying the moment — because you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.
You’re watching your baby sleep peacefully, and suddenly you think: What if something’s wrong?
Or you’re having a good day, but can’t shake the feeling that it won’t last.
That looming dread? That’s anxiety trying to “prepare” you — but it robs you of joy.
9. Replaying conversations in your head long after they’re over.
You overanalyze the text you sent. You wonder if your tone at school drop-off came off wrong. You lie awake thinking about something you said last week.
This is anxiety feeding the belief that you’ve somehow messed up — when really, you’re just a caring human who wants to get it right.
10. Feeling responsible for everyone’s emotions.
Your toddler melts down, your partner’s in a bad mood, the baby’s fussy — and you immediately feel like it’s your fault.
Anxiety convinces you that if everyone around you isn’t okay, then you’ve failed. But mama, you are not in charge of everyone’s happiness. You matter, too.
Okay, Now What?
Seeing yourself in those signs of anxiety can be a relief — and also kind of a gut punch.
You might be thinking, “Yep, that’s me… but how do I make it stop?”
Here’s the good news: You don’t have to fix everything at once.
You don’t even have to stop the anxious thoughts entirely.
What helps most is learning to notice what’s happening — and gently interrupt it.
In therapy, I often use a CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) approach, which means looking at the connection between your thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. When anxiety shows up, instead of getting stuck in it, you can practice:
- Noticing the thought or pattern
- Challenging it gently (not harshly!)
- Choosing a small, supportive action instead
These tools aren’t magic, but they are powerful — especially when practiced in tiny, everyday moments. Let’s walk through a few examples:
When you experience irritability with your kids that makes you feel ashamed, here’s what you can do…
Feeling: Snappy, tense, overwhelmed — then guilty.
Try this: Pause and name what’s really going on: “I’m overstimulated, not mean. I need a break, not punishment.”
Reframe: “My irritability is a signal, not a flaw. I’m allowed to step away and reset.”
When you find yourself scrolling endlessly but never feeling better, here’s what you can do…
Thought: “Other moms have it more together than I do.”
Try this: Catch the comparison spiral and ask, “What am I looking for here — connection? Permission to rest? Reassurance?” Then offer that to yourself instead: a cup of tea, a deep breath, a reminder that no one posts their full reality.
Reframe: “Someone else’s highlight reel doesn’t make me less worthy.”
Inability to make a simple decision
Thought: “If I get this wrong, something bad might happen.”
Try this: Use a grounding question: “Is this a life-or-death choice, or just a regular hard decision?” Then choose what feels most doable right now — not perfect, just doable.
Reframe: “It’s safe to choose. I can adjust if I need to.”
Anxiety in motherhood is more common than you think — and you’re not weak for feeling it.
You’re human. You’re carrying a lot.
The good news is, small shifts do make a difference. The more you notice these patterns with kindness (not criticism), the easier it becomes to meet yourself with care instead of pressure.
You don’t have to do it perfectly.
You just have to keep showing up — one gentle moment at a time.
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