You’re Not Tired. You’re Regulating Everyone.
By: Sara Schreiner
A note for the moms who are tired in their bones
If you feel like you’re crawling out of the holidays more exhausted than when you went in, you’re not imagining it.
There’s a specific kind of tired that settles in after weeks of being “the steady one.”
The one who holds it together.
The one who anticipates needs before they’re spoken.
The one whose calm becomes the calm for everyone else.
And eventually… your body starts to protest.
Maybe it looks like:
- Not wanting to be touched — at all
- Hiding in your car, the bathroom, the basement, anywhere quiet
- Feeling impatient or easily annoyed over small things
- Snapping and then feeling guilty
- Feeling like even the people you love most are too much
This isn’t because you’re ungrateful.
It’s because your nervous system is tired of being borrowed to ensure everyone else is regulated.
The invisible work no one names
Many moms don’t just manage schedules and logistics — they regulate the emotional climate of the entire household.
Your kids melt down, and your body automatically softens to meet them.
Your partner is stressed, and you absorb the edge so things don’t escalate.
You notice the tension, the moods, the tone shifts — and you adjust.
Over time, this becomes a quiet expectation:
Mom will regulate/fix it.
And when you can’t anymore, it can feel like something is wrong with you.
There isn’t.
Your nervous system has simply been working overtime.
Feeling “touched out” isn’t rejection — it’s overload
When your body recoils from touch, it’s not because you don’t love your people.
It’s because your system hasn’t had enough unsolicited calm.
So many moms only experience touch that asks something of them: comfort, reassurance, closeness, soothing.
Your body is saying, I need space to feel like myself again.
That message deserves respect — not guilt.
How to stop being the only regulator in the room
Here’s the part that matters most:
You don’t heal burnout by pushing through it.
You heal it by redistributing responsibility.
1. Name what’s happening — without blame
This can sound like:
“I’ve noticed I’m constantly regulating everyone else, and I’m exhausted. I need help changing that.”
Not an accusation.
Not a criticism.
Just truth.
When we don’t name it, resentment builds quietly.
2. Teach regulation instead of absorbing dysregulation
This applies to kids and partners.
Instead of:
- Fixing the meltdown
- Jumping in immediately
- Smoothing every rough edge
Try:
- “I see you’re upset. Let’s take a breath together.”
- “You’re allowed to feel frustrated. I’ll sit with you while you calm down.”
- “I need you to pause and regulate before we talk about this.”
This feels slower at first — but it builds long-term emotional muscle.
3. Let discomfort exist (this one is hard)
When moms step back from regulating, things can feel messy for a bit.
Kids may protest.
Partners may feel awkward or defensive.
Silence may feel uncomfortable.
That doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.
It means other people are learning to manage themselves.
4. Protect one small pocket of nervous system rest each day
Not productivity.
Not scrolling.
Not caretaking.
Something that tells your body:
I am safe. I am not needed right now.
Even 10 minutes matters.
A walk.
A locked door.
Music with no one talking to you.
Sitting in your car in silence — yes, that counts.
5. Remember: modeling regulation is different than being responsible for it
Your job is not to prevent every emotional wave in your home.
Your job is to show:
- How to pause
- How to breathe
- How to recover
- How to repair
That’s leadership. Not self-sacrifice.
A gentle reminder as you head into the new year
If you’re reading this and thinking, “I feel seen — and also tired,” you’re not alone.
This stage — especially with young kids — asks a lot of moms.
But it doesn’t stay this intense forever.
You’re not failing because you’re exhausted.
You’re human.
And you’re allowed to step out of the role of emotional shock absorber and into something healthier — for you and for the people you love.
Take a breath.
You’re not broken.
You’re just ready for more support.
💛