The Mental Load is Heavy… So I’m Dropping a Few Things
Confession time: I’ve been carrying the mental load like it’s some sort of Olympic event, except there’s no gold medal — just burnout, forgotten dentist appointments, and that constant hum of “Did I leave the stove on?” in the back of my brain.
And honestly? I’m tired. Like, “I just stared at the fridge for five minutes and forgot why I opened it” tired.
So here’s the deal: I’m officially dropping a few things. Not because I’m giving up — but because I’m done performing superhuman levels of juggling when I’m already operating on caffeine and questionable coping mechanisms.
Let’s normalize doing less without spiraling into guilt, shall we?
Exhibit A: My House Will Look Lived In
Translation: There will be crumbs. There will be laundry baskets that double as “floor furniture.” There will be socks in places socks shouldn’t be.
And you know what? That doesn’t make me a failure — it makes me someone prioritizing her mental bandwidth over spotless baseboards. You want a Pinterest house? That’s adorable. I want to not lose my mind trying to maintain one.
Exhibit B: Saying No Without Writing an Essay About It
Once upon a time, I’d say yes to everything — bake sales, extra projects, being emotionally available 24/7 — and then quietly implode.
Now? I’m mastering the ancient art of “No.” Just no. No explanations, no guilt-ridden overthinking at 2 a.m., no long-winded apologies that start with “I’m so sorry, I just have a lot going on…”
I have exactly enough energy for my family, my health, and maybe a side quest for snacks. The rest? Politely declining with minimal emotional labor.
Exhibit C: Lowering the Bar, Baby
If the mental load feels heavy, maybe the expectations are…unrealistic? Revolutionary thought, I know.
I used to believe I could meal plan, keep everyone alive, run errands, nurture relationships, achieve personal growth, and still have time for hobbies that make me feel like an actual human — all in one week.
Spoiler alert: That schedule only works for fictional characters and people with three nannies.
So we’re lowering the bar:
✔ Frozen pizza counts as dinner.
✔ Dry shampoo extends hair-washing cycles.
✔ “Quality time” can be five minutes of sitting in the same room silently scrolling.
Final Thoughts: Survival Over Perfection
The mental load isn’t going anywhere — but I’m not carrying every ounce of it anymore. Some balls will drop. Some tasks will get half-assed. Some days, survival is the win.
If you’re reading this, and your brain feels like an overstuffed browser with 47 tabs open — I see you. You don’t have to do it all. You’re allowed to set boundaries. You’re allowed to lower expectations. You’re allowed to be gloriously, unapologetically average at some things.
Because perfection is overrated — and so is burnout.