(Contributed by M and shared with my wholehearted permission as an example of authentic SAHM life)
Part 1 of 3
I never imagined that being a stay-at-home mom (SAHM) would leave me gasping for air some days, yet here I am. I used to think the SAHM life wasn’t for me—too traditional, too confining, too “other people.” But now, I live it daily, embodying an authenticity that’s both unscripted and messy.
The truth? It’s the hardest damn job I’ve ever done. And there’s no omitting the raw, unpolished reality that tags along. Between endless therapy appointments for my daughter, M, and chasing after my high-energy, headstrong son, F—whose ADHD could power a rocket—I often find myself staring into the chaos and screaming internally (sometimes externally), “WHAT THE FUCK DID WE DO?!”
But here’s the thing. That chaos? It’s layered. At its heart, it’s not just about the noise or the moments of feeling unhinged. It’s also a reflection of love, growth, and something deeper than I could’ve foreseen when this all began.
The Infinite Juggle of SAHM Life
There’s no way to sugarcoat the relentlessness of it all. Many days are a kaleidoscope of conflicting demands, unspoken needs, and the kind of exhaustion that hits right down to your bones. The therapy schedules, meltdowns, clutter-bombed living room, and nights spent Googling “how to advocate for your neurodivergent child effectively”—it tests you.
And at the same time, it grows you. There’s a rhythm hidden beneath the bedlam, one that whispers to you in hindsight. It’s like life pushing you to levels of adaptability and grit you never thought possible.
Take this morning as an example. By 10 a.m., I’d already mediated three sibling arguments, double-checked my daughter’s IEP schedule, and somehow convinced myself that reheated coffee counts as a win. By lunchtime, I was already depleted—but showing up. That’s the key. Sometimes, showing up isn’t glamorous; it’s just what you do because the alternative isn’t an option.
Redefining the Anchor Role
“Anchor” isn’t exactly how I would’ve described myself before. But as I look at the woman holding this family together—plopped on the couch late at night with a glass of wine in one hand and lists scribbled in the other—I realize I’ve grown into that identity. Not perfectly, not seamlessly, but day by day, task by task. Anchorhood, as I’ll call it, isn’t about stillness or perfection. It’s about holding the fort through every brewing storm.
There’s an underlying transformation taking place here. Being an anchor doesn’t mean you don’t bend under the pressure; it means you remain rooted even as you’re stretched to your limits.
It’s in those seemingly small victories—the “thank you, Mom” whispered from M when she sees me championing her voice at school meetings, or the laugh that erupts from F during one of our impromptu mom-son dance-offs. They’re fleeting, yes, but they’re monumental in my book.
Debunking the SAHM Myth
For too long, the role of a stay-at-home mom has come gift-wrapped in stereotypes. Lazy. Outdated. Secondary. Truthfully, nothing about SAHM life takes its foot off the gas pedal.
Here’s the hidden truth societal narratives often whitewash over: being a SAHM is an active choice, one that many of us wrestle with before leaning into it. We’re not clock-punchers; we’re unscheduled multitaskers and emotional architects, constructing homes where resilience and love can thrive.
Was this my “dream job”? Not in the polished, idealistic sense. But fulfilling? That’s a resounding yes. Love saturates every second of this gig—even the ones that make you question your own strength.
Learning Through the Chaos
I’ve learned more from this whirlwind than any self-help book could teach me. It’s taught me to adapt faster, to listen better, to lean into my kids’ quirks instead of wishing them away. It’s taught me to be okay with the partial chaos, with the imperfections in our home and our routines.
There’s also a personal recalibration happening here. I’m not just M and F’s mom; I am still my own woman with needs, dreams, and a voice that echoes even as a SAHM. Balancing these co-existing identities is an ongoing process, one that bumps into its share of roadblocks but grows richer every step of the way.
Finding Beauty in the Mess
When I reflect on these days—those that feel suffocating and those that feel joyful—I realize I’m crafting something extraordinary within the mess. This isn’t just parenting; it’s creating a home full of life, love, and all its contradictions. It’s showing my children what it means to rise to life’s challenges while holding tightly to each other.
It’s not the peaceful tableau I once thought motherhood might look like. It’s frenetic, it’s gritty, and sometimes it’s laughably absurd. But I’m okay with that. Scratch that—I’m proud of it.
A Quiet Revolution in Ordinary Days
I used to think revolution looked loud, messy, and disruptive. But in the intimacy of my life, I’ve found it to be quiet and sustaining. Every morning I wake up to the needs of my family and choose to stand in the chaos. Every day I transform the ordinary into extraordinary acts of love.
This choice—this willingness to revisit the same battles, show up even when you’re dead tired, and love in the trenches—that’s the quiet revolution of motherhood. That’s the unapologetic, unfiltered awakening I want to carry forward.
Uniting Through the Shared Journey
To the moms reading this who are in their own storm, juggling and anchoring with everything they’ve got, I see you. Your struggles, wins, messes, and small, shining moments of joy—every part of it matters.
This isn’t about perfect endings or tied-up bows. It’s about celebrating the beautiful, maddening, human experience of showing up every day. You’re not alone in it, messy though it may feel.
And that, friends, is something to be profoundly proud of..
