Mom Guilt
“My name is Jayda Ivy Swim. I’m 24 years old, a single mother to two-year-old twin boys living in the U.S. Virgin Islands, and I’m currently in my senior year of nursing school. I’m still not sure if I’m completely ready to tell my ‘story,’ because in many ways, it feels unfinished and still unfolding. But one thing I’ve faced head-on—and continue to battle daily—is something many mothers know all too well: mom guilt.
I became a single mother in the middle of earning one of the most demanding bachelor’s degrees, filled with nonstop exams, clinical hours, and endless studying. And I wasn’t raising just one baby, but two. In the beginning, my ex and I struggled to figure out co-parenting, and even now, it’s still a daily effort to get on the same page. Despite the challenges, I’m thankful for the lessons, the growth, and the independence I’ve gained along the way.
Through all of this, my faith has grown stronger than I ever imagined. I was baptized alongside my sons in the ocean on Easter morning, all three of us being dunked together by our pastor. It was powerful, emotional, and healing. I’ve learned to find beauty even in the pain. One thing that seems to connect mothers everywhere—single or married, new moms or empty nesters—is the guilt that creeps in when you’re trying so desperately to get everything “right.”
Honestly, can we just eliminate the word should from our vocabulary? Someone please call Webster’s. That word does more harm than good. Either we are or we aren’t. Either we can or we can’t. It took me almost two and a half years to finally understand that I am enough, just as I am. That realization was freeing beyond words.
For me, mom guilt shows up as not spending enough time with my boys, feeling distracted or exhausted, constantly comparing myself to others, and worrying about what I can and can’t provide. Social media fuels so much of this—what I post, what I don’t post, the fear of judgment, and the never-ending comparison game.
I want everything I share to be perfect. I want to inspire other mothers. And when I feel like I miss the mark, I’m incredibly hard on myself. That’s mom guilt in its purest form. One day at the grocery store, I grabbed fruit snacks for my sons—something I rarely buy because I try to keep them eating healthy. My son immediately noticed the organic ones and pointed them out. Suddenly, I was choosing between $6.99 for 40 regular packs or $9.99 for 24 organic ones. As a frugal single mom, it wasn’t an easy choice, but I bought the organic ones, remembering my mom’s words: you’ll never regret choosing health for your kids. Later, when I snapped a picture of them sitting in the grocery cart, I felt relieved. Had I bought the regular ones, I might not have even posted the photo out of guilt for being a “bad mom.” Mom guilt, again.
Social media also opens the door wide for mom shaming. Sometimes it’s disguised as advice, but other times it’s harsh comments or gossip shared among other moms. I’ve heard it all—judgment about food choices, parenting styles, and especially about being a single mother. I’ve even received messages from younger men who barely know me, questioning my decisions. People often ask why I’d “choose” to raise my children alone, as if that’s how it happened. Judgment fuels guilt, and guilt weighs heavy. Mom guilt.
Then there’s comparison. When I see another mom posting Pinterest-perfect milestones while my laundry pile is threatening to topple over, that guilt burns deep. I feel guilty for needing to clean instead of play, for not having new activities planned, or for being too tired to draw with chalk outside. I imagine how much easier life would be with a maid or a chef—more time, more energy, more patience. But I don’t have that. It’s just me, pouring everything I have into laundry, dishes, sticky floors, potty accidents, and then using whatever energy remains to try and create something special for my boys. Cue the sigh… and more mom guilt.
But truly, my sons are my top priority. I want to give them my best every single day. Feeling “subpar” in the most important role of my life can be overwhelming and emotionally exhausting. I don’t get sick days, quiet breaks, or even privacy in the shower. I know that if I stretch myself too thin, I can’t show up as the mother they need. They come before my studies, my health, and my finances—every time. And even then, I still can’t do it all. And that is okay.
That’s what I want you to remember. It’s okay to take time for yourself. When a mother practices self-care, she isn’t being selfish—she’s refilling her cup so she can give more. You cannot pour from an empty cup. The more grace you give yourself, the more you have to give your children. And with that grace comes lighter burdens, quieter doubts, and a little less mom guilt.
