The TRUTH about resentment (and why it’s not your fault)

Hey Mama,

Kara here.

I don’t feel resentful most days.

I’m making snacks, wiping counters, chasing a toddler with a toothbrush while the other one is crying for a snack. I’m moving from one moment to the next, doing what needs to be done. It’s fine. I’m fine.

But then…
Caleb leaves his dish in the sink.
Again.

And I snap.

Not in a huge way — just a sharp tone, a too-heavy sigh, a comment I instantly regret. But it surprises me every time, how deep the reaction runs.

Because it’s not really about the dish.
It’s about the invisible things I’m holding.
It's about the feeling of aloneness in the weight of it all.
The weight of the house.
The rhythms of our kids.
The lack of space for me.

And when I really slow down and listen underneath the irritation…
I realize the truth:
I’m jealous.

He gets to go to work. To have adult conversations all day, to pursue what he’s passionate about.
And in this season, I've chosen to work less. I’m at home navigating nap schedules and school pickups and remembering to pay the car insurance.

And while I love being a mother — I really do — I can’t ignore this undercurrent that lives in me sometimes.
The tug-of-war between what I need and what I’m constantly giving.

The resentment?
It’s not a flaw.
It’s a signal.
A flare from my soul saying: you matter too.

What I'm learning — slowly, imperfectly — is that I have to carve out space for myself, even when it feels inconvenient.
I have to get quiet enough to hear what I actually need…
…and brave enough to ask for it.

This is the work we do together at Embodied Mama - not surface-level self-care, but deep tending to the parts of us that get lost in the demands of motherhood. The stuff that feels lodged in us and desperately wants to surface.

Because resentment doesn’t go away by ignoring it.
It softens when we listen.
When we give ourselves back to ourselves.

You’re not alone in this.

With love,
Kara