There’s a moment every mother knows too damn well.

You look around the room, waiting for someone — anyone — to step up.

They don’t.

And then you say the six words that have become your personal death sentence: “Never mind. I’ll just do it.”

At this point, it’s basically muscle memory.

Someone misses a cue? You swoop in.
School forms, groceries, meals, laundry, emotional labor, booking the dentist, remembering birthdays for relatives you barely tolerate?
You swoop in again.

Not because you’re dying to do it.
Because you were trained to.

Somewhere along the line, you learned that a 'good mom' anticipates every need, absorbs every inconvenience, and pretends she’s got the bandwidth of a Navy SEAL on espresso.

You learned that asking for help makes you needy.
Or naggy.
Or 'too much.'

So you stopped asking.
And now you’re the woman quietly carrying the workload of three adults while smiling like you’re fine.

Let’s get real:
“I’ll do it myself” isn’t strength.
It’s a survival strategy—one you never gave yourself permission to outgrow.

And now—with a house, kids, aging parents, holidays, and the emotional load of twenty people—you’re drowning in it.

The Real Reason You’re Exhausted

It’s not the doing.
It’s the doing without support.

You’re not tired because you're weak.
You’re tired because you’re over-functioning in a household that learned to under-function around you.

You’re not resentful because you’re dramatic.
You’re resentful because you’ve been running the entire operation solo.

You’re not overwhelmed because you “can’t handle life.”
You’re overwhelmed because everyone else got real cozy with you being the default everything.

And honestly?
You’ve trained them beautifully.

The New Rule:

If it affects your life, they’re part of the solution.

Asking for help is not begging.
Delegating is not complaining.
Expecting contribution is not being 'extra.'

Here’s the rule every badass Boston mom needs tattooed on her brain:

If it touches your time, your energy, your mental load, or your peace —
whoever benefits from it participates in it.

Read that again.
Then read it out loud.
It’ll change your whole house.

Kids eat? They help prep.
Partner wears clothes? Laundry’s a shared sport.
They live in the house? They help maintain the house.

You’re not asking for favors.
You’re establishing standards.

You’re not being controlling.
You’re being a leader.

You’re not begging.
You’re building a family culture that doesn’t treat you like the unpaid staff.

How to Ask for Help — Without Apologizing, Over-Explaining, or Shrinking

Most moms ask for help like they’re trying not to offend anybody.
No more.

Badass moms use clarity.
Not emotional gymnastics.

Try this:

“Here’s what needs to happen.
Here’s what I’m doing.
Here’s what I need you to do.
Thank you.”

Period.
No nervous laughter.
No “if you don’t mind.”
No “I can do it if you’re busy.”
No apology for being a human being with limits.

This is not a negotiation.
It’s a new operating system.

You’re Not Failing — You’re Evolving

The mom who did everything once had her purpose.
She powered through.
She survived.

But she’s tired now.
She wants backup.
She wants joy.
She wants a damn minute to breathe.

You don’t need to be less of a badass.
You need to upgrade the badassery.

A woman who leads with softness and standards?
A woman who refuses to beg for support?
A woman who claims space in her own life?

She’s unstoppable.
She’s magnetic.
She is unburnoutable.

And that’s the mom your kids actually need—
not the martyr who erases herself to keep the wheels turning.

Before You Burn Out Completely

Retire this sentence:
“I’ll do it myself.”

Replace it with:
“I don’t do everything anymore.”
“If it involves us, we do it together.”
“My needs matter here too.”

You don’t need permission.
You need a shift.
One rule.
One decision.
One moment where you say:

I’m done running this home alone.
It’s time for everyone to rise with me.

Here’s to the mothers rewriting the rules — raising families and raising themselves.

— Nancy 🔥