A Love Letter To Working Moms: The Wins We Don’t Count (But Seriously Should)
Dear working mom,
I need to tell you something. And I really, really need you to actually hear me—like, put the phone down, ignore the laundry pile for a sec, and let this sink in.
You did some impossible stuff in 2025.
I can already see you rolling your eyes. I know that face. You’re thinking, "Please, I just did what I had to do," while mentally checking off the dozen things you didn't get to today and that one ball you dropped on Tuesday.
But that’s exactly why I’m writing this.
I was scrolling through Reddit the other day—one of those working mom subs I’ve lurked in for years—and I saw you. Not literally, obviously, but I saw your story. Your pattern.
Someone asked a simple, "Hey, what’s one thing you actually accomplished in 2025?" and the answers? Let's just say they just about broke my therapist's heart.
One mom wrote: "I survived childbirth, some really scary birth injuries, PPD, bought a house, and finally went back to work part-time." Another one mentioned her entire neighborhood burning down in January (horrifying, right?), but she’s the one who handled the insurance, the disaster loans, and somehow made sure her kid had a "magical" Christmas anyway.
Then there was the one who left an abusive ex, got a job after five years at home, and is now studying for the bar while paying her own legal bills.
Do you see the common thread here?
These women are out here doing the literal impossible, and then—almost every single one of them—shrug and call it "just surviving." They’ll add a little, "I guess that's worth celebrating?" at the end. Like they need permission to feel proud.
And I’m betting you do the exact same thing.
You’ve been programmed to ignore your own heroics
I see this in my practice all the time. Moms navigate a crisis, leave a toxic situation, drag themselves back to the office while their brain is screaming with anxiety... and they just file it under "Life."
Meanwhile, the internet is screaming at you to make vision boards and "reimagine" your life for 2026.
But can I be real? The most powerful thing you can do this month isn't planning who you’re going to be. It’s looking in the mirror and actually acknowledging who you’ve already been.
Because she—that version of you—has been through the ringer. And she deserves more than a dismissive, "Well, I'm still standing, I guess."
The stories you forget to tell yourself
The Reddit thread had a wild range of wins. One mom just wrote: "I got a divorce." Four words. That’s it.
It got 69 upvotes because every mom reading it knew exactly how heavy those four words are. Another mom was just happy she discovered audiobooks because they made her feel like a "real person" again while doing the dishes. One mom organized the playroom. (Which, let's be honest, is a Herculean task.)
From surviving a house fire to finding the lost toy trucks.
And the comments celebrated both equally. Because we know the truth that the rest of the world ignores: It’s all hard. It’s all brave. And it all counts.
I call this "accomplishment blindness." You’re so busy looking at the next mountain that you don’t realize you just climbed Everest in flip-flops while carrying a toddler and answering a "per my last email" message.
What actually counts as a win?
Society wants to celebrate the LinkedIn stuff—promotions, degrees, the "forever home." But the real stuff? The stuff that actually takes grit? It looks like this:
Getting through a divorce without losing your mind.
Showing up to work when you were terrified you’d be fired.
Asking for part-time hours (seriously, that takes more guts than any board meeting).
Taking a random Tuesday off for your own sanity and not apologizing for it.
Finally interviewing for a new job after 20 years of being burned out.
That’s high-level resilience, not "just getting by."
Here’s your homework (sorry, I know you’re busy)
Before you write down a single goal for 2026, I need you to do something uncomfortable: Write down three things you did in 2025 that you haven't given yourself credit for.
Not the Instagram-worthy stuff. I’m talking about the stuff you navigated, endured, or just plain survived. This isn't just "positive thinking"—it’s cognitive reframing.
It’s proving to your brain that you are capable before you start demanding more from yourself.
Ask yourself:
What did I do even though I was scared to death?
What did I keep doing when I desperately wanted to quit?
What tiny boundary did I set (even if I did it awkwardly)?
What made my life even 2% easier?
Maybe it’s: "I didn’t quit my job even though I cried in my car every morning for three months." Or maybe it’s: "I stopped replying to my mother-in-law’s passive-aggressive texts." (Honestly? That’s a gold medal win in my book.)
Write them on paper. Seriously. Use a pen. It hits the brain differently than typing in a notes app. You’re literally rewiring how you see yourself.
Why this beats goal-setting or a vision board any day
Real change doesn’t come from a "New Year, New Me" poster. It comes from evidence.
You’re already carrying a mental résumé of impossible things you’ve done while also packing lunch boxes and remembering that Thursday is "crazy sock day" at school. You call it "just life." I call it a million small acts of courage stacked on top of each other.
When you start the year by looking at what you’ve already survived, you give yourself something a vision board can’t: Proof.
One last thought
One mom in that thread said: "I feel like I finally woke up last year and planted seeds for a brighter future." She’d left an abusive marriage and was studying for the bar, but she was most proud of just... waking up. That’s what growth looks like. It’s messy, it’s incremental, and it’s usually not very pretty.
What seeds did you plant? Maybe you started therapy. Maybe you let go of a friendship that felt like an anchor. Maybe you just showed up for your kids when you were running on an empty tank. Those are the seeds.
So, take 15 minutes. Grab a coffee. Sit in the car if that’s the only place no one would ask for a snack. Write down those three wins.
Then ask yourself: "If my best friend told me she did these things, what would I say to her?" You’d tell her she’s a rockstar. You’d tell her to stop being so hard on herself.
Now, try saying that to yourself.
She’s the one who got you through 2025. She deserves a little credit before she has to do it all over again.
You’re not "just surviving." You’re doing the impossible. Daily.
And it's time you started counting it.
Next week, we’ll talk about what to do when you’re doing everything "right" and it still feels like a struggle. But for today? Just honor the person who got you here.
