Working Moms and the Burnout Crisis
The invisible weight of balancing motherhood, work, and survival in a society that rarely makes room for both.
I became a mom at 19 — unplanned and while I was a freshman in college. I had no idea what lay ahead, but I knew immediately it was time to grow up. While I did not work during college, I remember changing my class schedule to mirror an 8 a.m.–5 p.m. working schedule so that after graduation, both my daughter and I would already be accustomed to it.
I have been a working mom since I was 22 years old, and now, at 42, I can confirm that burnout is real. As a mom, you are never really off, and as a working mom, you are essentially pulling double duty every single day. The thing is, your routine becomes so automatic — the thinking, the steps, the actions — that years can go by before you even notice what is happening. Before you notice how your day-to-day lifestyle is affecting your body and mind.
Being a mom is a full-time job, full stop. And if we are being honest and fair, we should be compensated monetarily as such. Since that is not the reality of the country we live in, being a working mom is vital for many women. While that may look different for each mom, the baseline remains the same: you are always working. No days off, no shutdown time, and unlike machines, we are not guaranteed scheduled maintenance.
I distinctly remember a time in my life, about eight or nine years ago, when I first realized burnout was happening to me in real time. If I did not make a change soon, my health would be affected. At that time, I was a mother of four working for a live TV company, and due to the nature of my role, I was always accessible. Calls from the station came at all hours, and weekends were rarely my own. Working 60 hours a week had become normal.
I had just had my fourth child, I was divorced, and I had just purchased my first home. I was a single mother of four, a new homeowner, and working around 60 hours a week. It was a lot. Not only was I under 35 and already starting to see gray hairs appear, but I also felt like I was having drive-by moments with my children — barely spending meaningful time with them and constantly focusing on the next thing to do on the mom checklist.
I would complete our morning routine, get everyone off to school, and then head to work. I would work a full eight-hour day, pick the kids up, cook dinner, and then begin our bath-and-bed routine. Once they were all tucked in, I would log back onto my computer and work another one to three hours before finally going to bed. And that was just Monday through Friday. On weekends, I would wake up before the kids to squeeze in another three or four hours of work.
Oftentimes, I felt like I was not allowed to ask for or expect balance as a working mom, but that was a lie. If we are being fully honest, our society is not built to support or encourage working mothers. Work hours do not align with school schedules, and elementary, middle, and high schools all start at different times. Trust me, my children were all in different grade levels, so I experienced this in real time. Then, just to add another layer of stress, after-school care programs ended at 6 p.m., while most parents got off work at 5 p.m. It’s not like there is a mom-only lane that allows us to skip the evening traffic and make it to our kids’ schools on time.
I genuinely spent very little real time with my children, and I hated myself for it. But I felt like I had no choice. I had to work. The long hours turned into stress that I carried home with me, which was not fair to my children or myself. I would cry at work from the pressure of the role and cry more at home from being pulled in so many different directions. I was burned out and did not even realize it.
All I knew was that my responsibilities would not allow me to break, stop, or take time off. Or at least, that is what I believed.
I remember the turning point like it was yesterday — the moment I found the strength and the voice to finally say, “Enough.”
There was a position available at work that would have been a promotion for me. Not only would I have had my own office, but I also would have managed a team. These opportunities rarely opened up, so naturally, there was a lot of competition. I prepared for the interviews, made it through the panels and rounds, and advanced all the way to the end.
When the announcement finally came out, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. Not only did I not get the position, but I was passed over in favor of the hiring manager’s sister-in-law. I felt defeated. I was angry. At that point, I had dedicated five years and countless hours to that company — sacrificing time with my children and myself in the process.
I had finally reached my limit.
As a so-called “growth opportunity,” I was transferred to run a department that was the same size as the one tied to the promotion I did not receive — only without the pay, title, or support team. I was done. It was time for me to put my life, my peace, and my family first.
I began searching for a role that would allow me to finally entertain the idea of work-life balance. Even if it meant taking a pay cut, it felt worth it. Finding a position at a new company gave me the fresh start I desperately needed. Now, I will not lie — the pay cut ended up being larger than I could comfortably manage — but the lessons I learned from that experience have stayed with me ever since.
Leaving that TV company gave me my life back.
It gave my children their mother back.
It was not until I started working for a company with regular business hours that I realized how much I had missed.
I had been living in a fog, simply going through the motions every day just to survive until the next one.
I was living in a constant state of burnout and did not even recognize it. But suddenly, I had my nights and weekends back. Heck, I even joined the PTA at my child’s school. I could focus on work while I was at work, and when I left for the day, I could actually leave work behind. At home, I could simply be Mom and fully engage with my children.
I cannot put into words what that felt like. For the first time in five years, I felt like I could finally breathe fresh air again, and it was glorious.
Oftentimes, we do not realize how harmful something is until we finally escape it.
From that moment forward, I made a vow to myself that I would never again allow a company to take my life away from me — or from my children. It simply is not worth it.
Being a working mom is already hard enough. The physical and mental load is heavy. But finding the balance that works for you and your family — and unapologetically demanding it — is crucial.
There is beauty in being a working mom, but our survival depends on defining our boundaries and refusing to allow the burnout crisis a permanent seat at our family table.