The Myth of the Calm, Perfect Mom
Photo by Jose Escobar on Unsplash
It had already been a hard morning.
The dogs had made a mess.
The baby was crying and needed to be held.
Our oldest had just spilled his water and was asking for help—all within about 15 minutes.
But really, it had been building since the moment I got up.
I snapped. I raised my voice. I felt that familiar mix of guilt and regret almost instantly.
And maybe you’ve had a moment like that too—the kind where everything inside you says, “You blew it.” But what comes next matters more than we realize.
So yes, you snapped. Again.
You’re exhausted. Again.
And deep down, you’re asking:
“Why can’t I just stay calm like other moms?”
If you’ve ever said something you regret, slammed a cupboard, or cried behind the bathroom door while your kids keep calling your name, this post is for you.
Because there’s a myth out there that moms are supposed to be calm, composed, and endlessly regulated, and it’s not just unrealistic. It’s harmful.
Let’s talk about where that myth came from, what true calm actually looks like, and why your moments of imperfection may be more powerful than you think.
Where the Myth Comes From
It’s everywhere:
The mom-fluencers with perfect tone and tidy homes.
The gentle parenting posts that start to sound like emotional perfectionism.
That internalized message you got growing up: “You’re the glue. Keep it together.”
Even therapy culture can reinforce the idea that "regulated" equals "quiet and emotionally neutral."
But the truth is:
“Good parents aren’t calm all the time. They repair when they’ve ruptured.” — Dr. Becky Kennedy
Calm isn’t about never losing it.
It’s about how we come back.
What Calm Actually Looks Like
Real calm isn’t about looking unbothered.
It isn’t tight smiles and forced sweetness.
It’s:
Pausing before you escalate.
Coming back after you snap.
Saying: “That wasn’t okay. I’m sorry.”
According to Brené Brown, in The Gifts of Imperfection:
“Imperfections are not inadequacies; they are reminders that we're all in this together.”
The goal isn’t to be a perfect mom.
It’s to be a connected one.
The Power of Rupture and Repair
After that outburst, I stood in the kitchen, staring at the mess and feeling the weight of disappointment press in.
What hurt most wasn’t just the yelling—it was the story in my head:
“You should’ve held it together. A better mom would’ve stayed calm.”
That voice—quiet but cutting—was familiar. And yet, in that moment, something shifted. I took a breath, walked over, and pulled my oldest into a hug.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “This morning was hard, and I didn’t handle it well.”
What followed wasn’t magical. It didn’t erase the mess. But it did something even better: it made space for connection.
When you lose your cool and come back with empathy, you teach your child something powerful:
That emotions are part of life.
That relationships can survive hard moments.
That you are human, and still safe.
Repair builds trust. It deepens resilience.
It teaches kids how to navigate relationships honestly.
Dr. Becky calls this the foundation of secure attachment.
And Emily Nagoski, in Burnout, reminds us:
“The cure for burnout isn’t self-care. It’s all of us caring for each other.”
That includes caring for yourself in the aftermath of a hard moment.
What to Try Instead of “Staying Calm”
When you feel yourself spiraling, try this:
1. A Grounding Phrase (Before)
“I am safe. They’re not trying to ruin me. This is hard, not bad.”
2. A Repair Phrase (After)
“I didn’t handle that how I wanted to. I love you. I’m still learning too.”
3. A Re-Regulation Tool (Anytime)
Cold water on your hands
Step outside for 30 seconds
Text a friend just one emoji 😑
The goal isn’t to avoid every rupture.
It’s to come back with honesty, humility, and connection.
You Don’t Need to Be Calm. You Need to Be Here.
There’s no trophy for composure.
There’s no medal for swallowing your frustration.
But there is strength in staying real.
And your kids don’t need a perfect mom.
They need a present one. A growing one. One who can say, “I’m sorry,” and mean it.
So the next time you think, “I should have been calm,” try asking instead:
Can I reconnect now?
Can I show up again?
Can I repair?
You can.
And it matters more than you think.
📲 Follow @EMCounselingllc for real parenting tools—not perfect ones.