When Love Gets Loud: Mum Rage, Guilt & the Taboo of Anger
“Mum, why are you getting so upset?”
If you’re a mother, you’ve probably heard this before. I know I have – straight from my kids.
Maybe it’s my emotional nature. Some mothers swallow their frustration, go quiet, or simply walk away. I don’t. Sometimes it bursts out – and it has, more than once, over the course of my motherhood.
Why?
Because I work independently – no fixed hours.
Because I run the household, manage the family schedule, look after the kids, arrange doctor’s appointments, buy birthday presents, plan vacations, and handle all the finances and life logistics.
And because I still want to maintain friendships, do sports, travel, and go out for dinner sometimes.
The result: constant time and mental overload.
👉 My kids don’t always understand when and why I’m overwhelmed.
👉 I didn’t plan to do all this on my own.
👉 And others? Often they just say, “Well, that’s the life you chose.”
Did I really choose this – or imagine it this way?
And more importantly:
Am I even allowed to be angry, as a mother?
Frustrated, exhausted, burnt out?
Or is the solution just another mindfulness class, a podcast to help me sleep, or a coffee chat with friends?
Sure, the offers are there – friends who get it, books, films, coaches. If you manage to squeeze them in.
Still, I believe this:
- You’re allowed to feel crushed when life doesn’t go to plan – and the prince rode off to another fairytale. Or you outgrew him entirely.
- You’re allowed to be sad when you feel alone with a partner.
- And sad when you feel alone without one.
- You can find it unfair that your kids don’t see all you do – and still complain about every task.
- You’re allowed to admit you secretly thought they’d ace school without help and move out by 23.
- You can hate that your life is dictated by everything but you – and joy feels far away.
- You’re allowed to feel a sting of envy for the acquaintance who uses her husband’s money to open a cute concept store – and doesn’t have to break even by Q1.
- It’s okay to feel resentful watching Petra post her quinoa bowl while you barely make it to the grocery store.
- You can scream when the washing machine, the car, and the laptop all break in one day – and your tax consultant is chasing you.
- You can cry because you wanted to go to that girls’ dinner, but your youngest has a fever.
- Or quietly fight back tears because everyone at the party looks fabulous – and you barely found a dress that fits, let alone time for hair spray.
I’m not the Dalai Lama. I’m a mother.
Even writing this, my anger is slowly easing…
And yes, I know:
✔ Health is everything.
✔ Having friends and family is a blessing.
✔ Children are a gift, a surprise, and a heart-expander.
✔ And yes – today, mothers have more space and opportunity than ever before.
But still – or maybe because of it all – I believe this:
I want the right to be angry. To let my kids see when my boundaries are crossed.
To not always be calm and composed.
To have a weekend of tears and chocolate and venting with friends.
To hate it all sometimes – unapologetically.
And most of all:
I don’t want to feel guilty for it.
Mindfulness, reflection, self-care – yes. Absolutely.
But why is it always mothers who are expected to be soft, multi-skilled, and emotionally balanced?
Having kids didn’t turn me into that person. Quite the opposite.
I am human. With rage. With love. With noise.
I’m not the Dalai Lama. (Even though I like him. But let’s be honest – he doesn’t have kids.)
And because I love, I get to feel all of it.
Even as a mother.
Especially as a mother. ❤️
