Why Do Women Have to Carry the Weight?*An exhausted woman's guide to surviving the patriarchy, setting boundaries, and giving significantly fewer fucks.*

One day, as I was sitting in my office contemplating life and doomscrolling between sessions, I came to a realization, as I tend to do in these moments: I cannot possibly be the only person who feels this way.

As a woman who is currently pregnant, a business owner, and someone with ADHD, I am tired.

I am so fucking tired.

I am tired of my husband asking me where something is in the house, despite both of us being equally responsible for our household. I am tired of carrying the weight of the world, constantly worrying that something is wrong, that I've forgotten something, or that I've missed something important (which, more often than not, is actually the case).

I'm tired of remembering appointments, managing schedules, anticipating everyone's needs, and being expected to somehow know what needs to happen before anyone else even realizes there's something to do.

And lastly, I am so tired of living in this predatory, patriarchal society.

You know what makes it even more exhausting? Being aware of it.

As a therapist, I understand the mental load. I understand the emotional labor. I understand generational patterns, societal expectations, and the ways women are conditioned to put everyone else's needs before their own.

And yet, somehow, understanding the problem doesn't make me any less fucking tired.

Ultimately, as an educated woman who has spent a considerable amount of time helping other people navigate their lives, I've decided to write it out and try to figure out how to survive in this fucked-up world we're all living in.

So, as a therapist, a human, a woman, and a future mother, here are 10 things I'm currently doing to keep my head above water.

1. I'm Saying No:

It may be hard to believe, but "no" is a complete sentence.

People are going to be so pissed about this one, particularly if you've spent most of your life being the person who accommodates everyone else.

But sometimes, you have to pull that card out and simply say, "Sorry, but no."

This year, we're not participating in holiday festivities with family because, well, we just don't want to.

It's draining, it's exhausting, and quite frankly, we've never had a holiday in our own home.

So guess what? We're doing that.

No elaborate explanation. No negotiating. No attempting to manage everyone's disappointment.

Just no.

And here's the thing: people are allowed to be disappointed by your boundaries. Their disappointment does not automatically mean you've done something wrong.

As women, we're often conditioned to believe that being good means being agreeable. That being loving means being available. That being a good daughter, wife, mother, or friend means sacrificing our own comfort for someone else's.

I'm no longer interested in that arrangement.

2. "No." Part Two: You Don't Owe Everyone Access to You.

I will say this once for the people in the back:

YOU DON'T OWE ANYONE UNLIMITED ACCESS TO YOU.

Your time, energy, emotional availability, and mental health are not community property.

If supporting someone consistently comes at the expense of your own mental health and well-being, well, friend, it's just not worth it.

If you find yourself constantly sacrificing your needs for the sake of someone else's comfort, that's not necessarily kindness. Sometimes, that's conditioning.

And before someone comes for me, I'm not suggesting that we abandon everyone the moment relationships become inconvenient.

Relationships require effort, compromise, and sometimes sacrifice.

But there's a difference between showing up for someone you love and being expected to abandon yourself to keep them happy.

One is connection.

The other is self-erasure.

As a therapist who works with cycle-breakers, I see this all the time. Women who have spent decades learning how to read a room, anticipate emotional reactions, and keep everyone comfortable.

And then we wonder why we're exhausted.

Maybe the goal isn't to become better at carrying everyone else's emotions.

Maybe the goal is to finally put some of them down.

3. If People in Your Life Aren't Talking About What's Happening in the World, They Might Not Be Your People.

As women, if the people in your life aren't validating your experiences, your fears, or your anger about what's happening in the world right now, I want you to know something:

You're not crazy.

For centuries, societies have found ways to excuse men's behavior while expecting women and marginalized people to accommodate the consequences.

We've been told to be quieter, nicer, less emotional, less dramatic, and more understanding.

And quite frankly, I'm over it.

I distinctly remember posting my angry thoughts after Trump won the election, only for my mother-in-law to comment, "What is with all the politics?"

Well, as a woman, we should be mad, babe.

Sorry, not sorry.

We live in a country that elected a man who was found liable for sexual abuse in civil court, despite the very public allegations and controversies surrounding his treatment of women.

And somehow, we're supposed to just go about our days as though none of this is happening?

Go to work. Make dinner. Answer emails. Remember to buy toilet paper.

It's absurd.

People are uncomfortable with the notion that there is something fundamentally wrong with this country. American exceptionalism, or some bullshit like that.

But discomfort doesn't make the problem disappear.

And anger isn't inherently unhealthy. Sometimes anger is the part of us that recognizes something is deeply wrong.

This is a long-winded way of saying: find the people who can hold space for your experiences, your anger, your frustration, and your sadness.

The people who don't? Well, maybe they have some learning to do.

And here's the beautiful thing: you don't have to be the person who educates them.

You can love someone and still recognize that they aren't emotionally safe for every conversation.

You can also decide that certain differences in values are too significant to overlook.

That's your choice.

4. I'm No Longer Accepting the Role of Household Project Manager.

Can we talk about the mental load for a second?

Because I swear, if I get asked where one more household item is located, I might actually lose my mind.

Here's the thing: I love my husband. I also don't want to be the human Google Maps of our home.

Women are so often expected to be the keepers of information.

Where's the dog medication? When's the appointment? Did we order more detergent? What are we doing this weekend? Did someone pay that bill?

It's not just about completing tasks.

It's about remembering that the tasks exist in the first place.

And for those of us with ADHD, this can feel particularly overwhelming.

My brain is already working overtime trying to organize my own life. I don't have the capacity to be the executive functioning system for an entire household.

So I'm practicing something revolutionary.

I'm letting other adults figure things out.

If you don't know where something is, look for it.

If you notice something needs to be done, do it.

If you see we're running out of something, add it to the grocery list.

Because I don't want help managing the household.

I want shared responsibility for the household.

And those are two very different things.

5. I'm Allowing Myself to Be Angry.

Somewhere along the way, women learned that anger was something to be ashamed of.

Sadness? Acceptable.

Anxiety? Understandable.

But anger?

Suddenly we're aggressive, irrational, difficult, or dramatic.

As a therapist, I spend a lot of time helping people understand that emotions are not inherently good or bad. They're information.

And anger is often telling us something important.

Maybe a boundary was crossed.

Maybe something feels unjust.

Maybe you've spent years being treated unfairly, and your body has finally decided it's had enough.

I think a lot of women are angry.

And I think we have every right to be.

What I'm working on is allowing myself to experience anger without immediately trying to turn it into something more socially acceptable.

I don't always need to find the silver lining.

I don't always need to understand someone else's perspective.

Sometimes I just need to say, "That was fucked up."

And let that be enough.

Of course, anger doesn't give us permission to harm people. But it absolutely gives us permission to recognize when something needs to change.

6. I'm Done Being the Bigger Person.

Oh, this one.

How many of us grew up hearing some variation of "just be the bigger person"?

Don't respond.

Let it go.

You know how they are.

Keep the peace.

Funny how the person being asked to keep the peace is rarely the person who disrupted it in the first place.

For women, being the bigger person often means swallowing our feelings so someone else doesn't have to confront their behavior.

And I'm tired of it.

I'm tired of being expected to understand everyone's trauma, everyone's intentions, and everyone's emotional limitations while receiving very little of that same understanding in return.

Yes, people have trauma.

Yes, people have complicated histories.

And yes, people are capable of growth.

But understanding why someone behaves a certain way doesn't mean you have to continue tolerating it.

Someone's trauma can explain their behavior without excusing its impact.

I can have compassion for someone and still decide that their behavior is not something I want in my life.

Two things can be true.

And quite frankly, I think we need to start teaching more women that.

7. I'm Questioning What It Actually Means to Be a Good Mother.

As someone preparing to become a mother, I've been thinking a lot about the expectations placed on women before their children are even born.

We're supposed to be excited, glowing, grateful, and somehow effortlessly prepared.

Meanwhile, we're still working, managing households, maintaining relationships, and trying to figure out how we're going to raise children in a world that feels increasingly terrifying.

And then there's the guilt.

The guilt about working.

The guilt about not working.

The guilt about childcare.

The guilt about wanting time to yourself.

The guilt about not enjoying every single second of pregnancy or motherhood.

I'm not even fully in the thick of motherhood yet, and I can already see how easy it would be to lose myself in the expectations.

So I'm trying to ask a different question.

Instead of "How do I become the perfect mother?" I'm asking, "How do I become a mother without abandoning myself?"

Because I don't want my child growing up believing that being a woman means being perpetually exhausted, resentful, and responsible for everyone else's happiness.

I want my child to understand that love doesn't require self-sacrifice at every turn.

That boundaries are healthy.

That rest is necessary.

That women are full human beings with identities, desires, and dreams outside of caregiving.

And perhaps most importantly, I want to model those things instead of just talking about them.

Which means I have to start practicing them now.

8. I'm Letting Go of the Idea That Rest Has to Be Earned.

Somewhere in our capitalist hellscape, we decided that rest was a reward for productivity.

You can relax once the laundry is done.

You can sit down once the house is clean.

You can take a break once you've answered every email, finished every task, and made sure everyone else is okay.

Except the tasks never end.

There is always another email.

Another load of laundry.

Another thing to worry about.

And if you're a woman who has spent most of her life measuring her worth by how useful she is to other people, doing nothing can feel incredibly uncomfortable.

I'm learning that rest isn't something I need to justify.

I don't have to be on the verge of a breakdown to deserve a break.

I don't need to turn every hobby into a side hustle.

And I certainly don't need to spend my limited free time optimizing myself into some more productive version of a human being.

Sometimes I want to sit on my couch, read a book, and ignore the world.

And that's what I'm going to do.

Revolutionary, I know.

9. I'm Being More Intentional About Who Gets My Energy.

As I've gotten older, I've started recognizing that not every relationship deserves the same level of access to me.

Some relationships are reciprocal, supportive, and genuinely fulfilling.

Others leave you feeling like you've just completed an unpaid internship in emotional regulation.

You know the ones.

The relationships where you're constantly listening, validating, accommodating, and making space, but when it's your turn to need something, suddenly there's very little room.

I'm not interested in maintaining relationships solely because they've existed for a long time.

History doesn't automatically equal health.

And loyalty shouldn't require self-abandonment.

I'm trying to surround myself with people who are curious about my life, who celebrate my accomplishments, who can tolerate uncomfortable conversations, and who don't require me to make myself smaller to maintain the relationship.

People who can apologize.

People who can reflect.

People who understand that accountability is not an attack.

And perhaps most importantly, people who don't make me feel like I'm too much simply because I have feelings.

Because the world is already exhausting enough.

Our relationships shouldn't consistently make it harder to exist in it.

10. I'm Remembering That I Cannot Self-Care My Way Out of a Systemic Problem.

And finally, perhaps the most important thing I've been reminding myself lately:

Not everything can be fixed with better boundaries, a bubble bath, or a gratitude journal.

I know. Shocking coming from a therapist.

But hear me out.

We live in a society that places enormous expectations on women and then sells us solutions to the exhaustion those expectations create.

Overwhelmed? Practice mindfulness.

Burned out? Improve your morning routine.

Struggling to balance work and family? Try time blocking.

And listen, I love a good coping skill.

I teach coping skills for a living.

But sometimes the problem isn't that we're failing to cope.

Sometimes the problem is that we're being asked to cope with things that are fundamentally unreasonable.

Women shouldn't have to become experts in nervous system regulation just to survive the expectations placed on them.

We shouldn't have to spend years in therapy unlearning the belief that our worth is tied to how much we do for other people.

We shouldn't have to fight to have our experiences taken seriously.

And we certainly shouldn't have to carry the mental, emotional, and physical labor of keeping everything together while being told we're asking for too much.

So yes, I'm setting boundaries.

I'm saying no.

I'm resting.

I'm being more intentional about my relationships.

But I'm also recognizing that my exhaustion isn't simply a personal failure to manage my time effectively.

It's connected to something much bigger.

And I refuse to pretend otherwise.

So, Where Does That Leave Us?

I wish I could wrap this up with some beautiful, inspirational message about finding balance and embracing the journey.

But that would feel a little disingenuous, wouldn't it?

The reality is that I'm still tired.

I'm still angry.

I still have ADHD, a business to run, a baby on the way, and approximately 47 tabs open in my brain at any given moment.

I still sometimes say yes when I mean no.

I still find myself managing other people's feelings.

And I still occasionally look around my house and wonder why I'm the only person who seems to know we're out of paper towels.

But I'm trying.

I'm trying to build a life that doesn't require me to abandon myself to maintain it.

I'm trying to recognize when my urge to accommodate others is coming from genuine love and when it's coming from years of conditioning.

I'm trying to remember that being a good person doesn't mean being an endlessly available person.

And perhaps most importantly, I'm trying to break the cycle before passing it on to another generation.

Because that's what cycle-breaking actually looks like sometimes.

It's not always a beautiful breakthrough in a therapy session.

Sometimes it's disappointing your family.

Sometimes it's telling your partner to figure it out.

Sometimes it's choosing rest over productivity.

Sometimes it's acknowledging that you love someone but don't particularly like the way they treat you.

And sometimes it's sitting in your office between sessions, doomscrolling, and realizing that you're really fucking tired of how things are.

I don't have all the answers.

But I do know this:

Women deserve lives that are bigger than what they can do for everyone else.

We deserve rest without guilt, relationships without constant emotional labor, and the freedom to exist without having to make ourselves smaller, quieter, or more convenient.

And if that makes us difficult?

Well, maybe it's time we got a little more comfortable being difficult.

Because I'm not interested in raising the next generation of women to be better at carrying the weight.

I'm interested in raising a generation that knows the weight was never supposed to be theirs alone.

And that, my friends, is a cycle worth breaking.

If you are someone that is looking to break some cycles, stuck in the muck with people that don’t get it… we may just click.