“Hey Jen, how are you?”
“I’m tired.”
It’s legitimately my opening line to almost every parent who asks how I’m going. I usually follow it up quickly with, “Don’t worry, it’s more of a state of being these days than an actual emotion or dysfunction.”
But lately I’ve been wondering… is it?
Because I’m not just tired. And neither are the women I speak to every day.
In our house we call it “the motherload.” Not just the mental load — the remembering, planning, organising, anticipating, scheduling, worrying, feeding, booking, packing, noticing, soothing, researching, and carrying.
It’s all of it. The invisible weight of holding a whole ecosystem together.
And it’s so much more than who’s buying the groceries.
I’m noticing a pattern in the conversations I’m having lately, especially with women in their mid to late thirties. More and more are identifying as neurodivergent. Not because they suddenly became
neurodivergent at 35, but because that’s when the wheels start to wobble enough to realise they always were.
And interestingly, that timing often sits right alongside the postpartum years.
The age when you’re not just responsible for yourself anymore.
You’re responsible for small people.
Their needs.
Their routines.
Their emotions.
Their development.
Their safety.
Their everything.
All while often working, partnering, parenting, and trying to hold onto some version of who you used to be.
It’s no wonder the cracks start to show.
Now, I’m not here to tell you to download another app. Or colour-code a schedule. Or lean into routines and checklists. (They’re my personal icks. My version of neuro says absolutely not.)
But I do think we need to start talking more honestly about what’s actually overwhelming us.
Not just pushing through the “I’m tired.”
I hear the same things from mothers every single day:
“I need to learn how to regulate myself.”
“Is being touched out a real thing?”
“How can I role model calm when I feel like a headless chook most of the
time?”
And the answer is: yes. All of it is real.
Overstimulation is real.
Emotional fatigue is real.
Decision fatigue is real.
The constant noise, movement, questions, needs, and touch — it’s a lot.
Especially if your brain has always worked a little differently.
Did you know the average age of diagnosis for neurodivergence in boys in Australia is around primary school age, roughly seven? For women, it often isn’t until their mid-thirties. Thirty-five to thirty-seven.
Women. Not girls.
Women who have already built lives, careers, relationships, families. Women who have spent decades coping, masking, adapting, pushing through.
And then motherhood arrives and quietly removes all the scaffolding.
Suddenly the things that used to work don’t work anymore.
The tolerance is lower.
The noise is louder.
The demands are constant.
The recovery time is non-existent.
And so we say, “I’m tired.”
But maybe what we really mean is:
“I’m overstimulated.”
“I’m overwhelmed.”
“I’m carrying too much.”
“I don’t know where I end and everyone else begins.”
Maybe the first step isn’t managing the motherload.
Maybe it’s naming it.
Actually noticing the parts of mothering that tip us over. The school emails at 9pm. The constant physical contact. The mental gymnastics of remembering everyone’s needs. The emotional labour of holding everyone steady when you feel wobbly yourself.
Not to fix it overnight. Not to perfect it. Just to see it.
Because when we can see it, we can start to soften around it.
We can step away for five minutes without guilt.
We can say, “I’m touched out.”
We can tell our kids, “Mum just needs a minute to reset.”
And in doing that, we’re already role modelling regulation.
Not the perfect, calm, always-together version.
But the real version.
The one that says, “I get overwhelmed too, and I’m learning what helps me feel okay again.”
Maybe being tired isn’t the problem.
Maybe it’s just the language we’ve been given for something much bigger.
Jen Laurie is a perinatal and early‐infancy mental health clinician supporting families across Australia, particularly those in rural and remote communities, through her practice Her Herd. With a Masters in Social Work and specialised training in perinatal wellbeing, Jen works with women and families navigating fertility challenges, pregnancy, birth, early parenting and associated emotional fatigue with compassionate, evidence‐based support. She also hosts the Her Herd podcast — a space for honest conversations about the joys and challenges of motherhood — and offers telehealth consultations to help parents feel understood, supported and empowered on their journey.
Throughout February we’re going to be helping New Englanders look good and feel great.
Read all the Fantastic Feb stories here
Sign up to share your tips and advice here