You love your kids. You’d do anything for them. But some days, when you're running on fumes, folding tiny socks at midnight, breaking up another sibling argument, or listening to a tantrum over the wrong color plate - you feel it.
Parental resentment.
But you don’t talk about it.
Because parents aren’t supposed to feel this way. You tell yourself you should be grateful. You should cherish these moments. You should soak it all in before they grow up too fast.
So, instead of saying, I feel exhausted. I feel unseen. I feel like I’ve given up so much of myself that I don’t even recognize who I am anymore… you push it down. You power through.
And that works - until it doesn’t.
Sarah was in my coaching community. She was a mom of three, and often showed up to my monthly Zoom sessions looking completely drained. She started talking, but before she could get through the first sentence, she broke down in tears.
“I love them so much, but… I feel like I’m disappearing.”
She told me about how she used to have hobbies, used to have energy, used to feel excited about life. But now? Her entire day revolved around meeting everyone else’s needs. She cooked, cleaned, worked, helped with homework, planned birthday parties, answered Mom, where’s my…? a hundred times a day.
She had a supportive husband, but the weight of the invisible labor - the mental load of keeping everything running - fell on her. She resented that. She resented that no one saw it.
But mostly? She resented herself.
For snapping at her kids when she was touched out.
For not wanting to play another game of pretend.
For dreaming about just one day off from being needed.
And the guilt of feeling that way? It was unbearable.
If any of this hits home, you’re not alone. Parental resentment sneaks in when we keep giving but never refill ourselves. It doesn’t mean you don’t love your kids. It only means you’re human. And there’s a way out of it.
These aren’t just surface-level solutions. These are real shifts that make a difference.
Name What You’ve Lost - and What You Want to Get Back
It’s okay to grieve the version of you that existed before parenthood. The spontaneity. The free time. The you that didn’t have to answer to little voices 24/7. Instead of just pushing through, ask yourself: What part of me have I let go of that I actually want back? Then take one step toward it. Love reading? Commit to a single chapter a night. Used to love music? Play your favorite playlist while making dinner. Start small. But start.
Stop Saying “It’s Just a Phase”
Yes, parenting has seasons. Yes, things change. But waiting for a phase to pass isn’t the solution. If you keep telling yourself this will get better when they’re older, you’ll always find a new reason to wait. Instead, ask: What needs to shift NOW to make things better for me?
Give Yourself Credit for the Things No One Sees
Sarah and I worked on this together. Every night, before she went to bed, she wrote down three things she didn’t do.
Didn’t lose my cool when my toddler threw their plate.
Didn’t put myself last today - I took 10 minutes to breathe outside.
Didn’t say yes to something that I knew would drain me.
The mental load is heavy. You’re carrying more than you realize. Acknowledge it.
Schedule Yourself on the Calendar - Before the Kids
We book our kids’ activities, school meetings, and appointments first, then try to squeeze ourselves in if there’s time. Flip it. Pick one thing for yourself - lunch with a friend, a quiet morning routine, a walk alone - and put it on the calendar first. Then schedule everything else around it.
Say It Out Loud - Without Guilt
The moment Sarah admitted her resentment, something shifted. It wasn’t shame anymore. It was an opportunity to change.
If you’re feeling this way, say it. Write it down. Speak it to a friend. Say it to your partner. “I feel exhausted. I need help. I need a break.” It’s not weakness. It’s honesty. And honesty opens the door for solutions.
Sarah made changes. Small ones, at first. She let herself sit in the driveway for five extra minutes before walking inside. She told her husband what she needed without feeling guilty.
She stopped saying yes out of obligation. And slowly, the resentment started to fade.
You can do the same.
If this spoke to you - if you see yourself in this - know that you don’t have to carry it alone.
We get it and you deserve to feel whole, too.
I really needed to hear this. Thank you!