I’ve always been somebody who knew what she wanted and got on with it. I loved school, I loved children, and becoming a teacher felt like a natural path for me. Later, I became a mum and threw myself into that too. I was organised, happy, capable, and clear on who I was. Life felt purposeful and I genuinely loved it.
Slowly though, without me really noticing at first, things started to shift. My boys got older. The little one who used to drag me to the park and climb everything in sight now barely comes out of his room. One minute they need you constantly and the next they’re pushing you away.
The family days out I used to carefully plan stopped working. They’d moan, want to stay home, or disappear into their phones. I found myself trying to force fun that nobody was actually enjoying anymore.
At the same time, I was still carrying everything.
The washing.
The dinners.
The Tesco shop every Sunday.
The football.
The Duke of Edinburgh.
The GCSEs.
The school emails.
The worrying about screen time.
The worrying about revision.
The constant mental calculations about whether I was doing too much or not enough.

The mental load never fully switched off. Underneath all of that was the bigger fear quietly running in the background: Have I got this wrong? Have I mollycoddled them too much? Are they independent enough? Will they know how to cope as adults? I had always imagined myself being the mum they would come home and talk to. The calm mum. The fun mum. The safe place. Instead, I felt stressed most of the time. Rushing. Reminding. Organising. Snapping about washing baskets and football kits because my brain was so overloaded with everything else. I started wondering whether this stressed version of me was becoming the version they would remember.
That fear is exhausting. Somewhere underneath all of that pressure, I’d disappeared too.
I wasn’t enjoying my job anymore. I found myself planning holidays and girls trips just to have something to look forward to, then dreading coming home because I knew the hamster wheel would immediately start again. The washing. The pressure. The Sunday feeling creeping earlier and earlier until it started ruining the whole weekend. I never used to be like that. I was tired all the time, mentally overloaded, and running on empty while still trying to hold everything together. The strange thing was that from the outside, my life looked lovely. People would say things like, “your life is wonderful,” and I’d smile and agree. Inside though, I felt completely overwhelmed.

That’s when I found coaching.
Not because I had everything figured out, but because I needed somebody to help me get out of my own head. I needed help untangling the overthinking, the pressure, and the constant mental noise.
More than anything, I wanted to feel like myself again.
The organised, calm, fun person underneath all the stress was still there. She’d just got buried underneath everybody else’s needs.
Coaching genuinely changed things for me. It helped me stop living in constant survival mode. I started thinking clearly again, feeling calmer again, and actually enjoying life again instead of simply managing it. It gave me space in my own mind again.
Now I help other mums with tweens and teens do the same. I understand what it feels like when motherhood quietly becomes management instead of living. I understand the invisible mental load, the emotional pressure, the overthinking, and the constant feeling that everybody needs something from you all the time.
Most importantly though, I understand this life from the inside.
I know how powerful it is when somebody finally helps you step out of survival mode and feel like yourself again.
Because you are still in there.
You have not disappeared forever.

You do not have to keep carrying everything on your own.
It is possible to feel calmer, more organised, and more like yourself again.
Together we’ll work on reducing the mental overload, creating more space in your mind and your life, and helping you enjoy this stage of motherhood again instead of constantly just managing it.