The Depths of Mothering: A Journey Through the Unseen Realms of Caregiving
“To mother” is a verb. It is an act, a state of being, a calling, and sometimes, a burden. But above all, it is deeply psychological—a role that stirs the waters of the unconscious, awakening instincts, emotions, and unresolved wounds.
Most of us have heard of postpartum depression or the baby blues, but the experience of mothering blues extends far beyond childbirth. It is not confined to those who have given birth, are female-bodied, or even those raising a human child. The essence of mothering—nurturing, protecting, and sacrificing for another vulnerable being—can awaken profound psychological reactions in anyone who takes on this role, whether they are raising a child, fostering an animal, tending to an aging parent, or even caring for a struggling friend.
Mothering is often framed as the most fulfilling, meaningful work a person can do. And it can be. Yet, this narrative is incomplete. Alongside the sweetness and joy of nurturing, there is exhaustion, resentment, fear, self-doubt, and even rage. It is a paradox—both deeply rewarding and deeply depleting, capable of filling the heart while also breaking it open.
The Unconscious Burden of Mothering
Mothering does not exist in a vacuum. It is entangled with our own experiences of being mothered—or not being mothered. Depth psychology teaches us that the mother archetype resides within the collective unconscious, shaping not just how we care for others but how we perceive care itself. If we were mothered with love, patience, and presence, we may approach mothering with confidence. But if we were neglected, criticized, or abandoned, mothering can feel like an open wound, reactivating old griefs we may not even realize we carry.
For those who never received the warmth of a loving mother, caregiving can become a battle with the past. The needs of the dependent being before us echo our own unmet needs. We might feel an unbearable sadness or resentment that seems misplaced—why do I feel this way when I am supposed to be nurturing? This is the shadow of mothering, the hidden, often unspoken pain that rises to the surface in moments of exhaustion, doubt, or despair.
Yet, within this pain lies an opportunity for healing. When we care for another with tenderness, we have a chance to re-mother ourselves—to recognize the child we once were and offer them the love they did not receive. This is not an easy process. It requires us to sit with our grief, to acknowledge our unmet needs, and to extend to ourselves the same patience we give to the ones we care for.
The Emotional Toll of Mothering
No matter how much we love the one we are caring for, the demands of mothering can feel relentless. The burden of responsibility, the weight of constant vigilance, the fear of failing—it is no wonder that so many caregivers struggle with anxiety, depression, and intrusive thoughts.
Some of the most common psychological experiences of mothering blues include:
• Exacerbated depression – A deep sadness that feels all-consuming.
• Exacerbated anxiety – A persistent worry that something will go wrong.
• Obsessive worry – Feeling hyper-vigilant about the well-being of the one you are caring for.
• Intrusive thoughts – Unwanted, distressing thoughts about harm coming to the one you are responsible for.
• Fear of harming – A terrifying, yet common, fear of accidentally or intentionally causing harm.
• Regret and remorse – Questioning whether taking on the role of a caregiver was the right choice.
• Resentment and anger – Feeling trapped, overwhelmed, or even resentful toward the one you are caring for.
• Exhaustion – A bone-deep fatigue that no amount of sleep can seem to cure.
• Hopelessness and helplessness – A sense that things will never get easier.
• Guilt – Feeling like a “bad” parent or caretaker for struggling with these emotions.
• Grief – Mourning your own childhood, the mothering you never received, or the freedom you once had.
The Shadow of the Good Mother
We live in a world that glorifies the ideal mother—the ever-smiling, ever-patient, ever-loving caretaker who gives endlessly without complaint. This myth is damaging because it denies the full range of human emotions that come with mothering. The truth is, sometimes mothering does not feel good. Sometimes, it feels like too much. And that is okay.
In Jungian psychology, the “good mother” and the “terrible mother” exist as archetypal forces within us. The good mother nurtures, provides, and protects. The terrible mother is exhausted, frustrated, even enraged. Both are real. Both exist within every caregiver. To deny the existence of the terrible mother—the part of us that feels suffocated, depleted, or resentful—is to invite shame. But when we acknowledge her, when we see her with compassion instead of judgment, we begin to integrate her. We make space for our full experience instead of pretending that mothering should always feel joyful.
Coping with the Mothering Blues: The Art of Self-Mothering
If there is one truth about mothering, it is this: You cannot pour from an empty cup. The more we learn to mother ourselves, the more we can show up for others with patience and grace. Self-mothering is not indulgence; it is survival. It means:
• Being compassionate with yourself – Acknowledge that struggling does not make you a bad caregiver.
• Reaching out for support – No one is meant to mother alone. Seek connection.
• Finding a community – Support groups, online spaces, and friendships can be lifelines.
• Taking breaks – Stepping away, even for a few minutes, can help restore your energy.
• Seeking professional support – Therapy can provide tools for managing overwhelming emotions.
• Asking for help when you need it – There is no shame in recognizing when you are unable to meet the needs of another being. Sometimes the most loving choice is to step back or ask others to step in.
The Paradox of Mothering
Mothering is both the hardest and the most beautiful work a person can do. It breaks us open, makes us confront our deepest wounds, and demands more of us than we often feel capable of giving. Yet, it also teaches us love, resilience, and the power of presence.
Perhaps the greatest lesson of mothering is this: The way we care for others is deeply connected to the way we care for ourselves. The more we offer ourselves grace, patience, and love, the more we can extend it to those who depend on us.
If you are struggling with the mothering blues, know this: You are not alone. You are not broken. You are human. And that is enough.
I offer therapy for women in Oakland, CA, and virtually throughout California. Contact me today to learn more.
This blog post was inspired by my experience raising my puppy, Ona.