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  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • Apr 19

Surviving solo parenting means learning to celebrate small wins, like getting through the day with everyone fed and safe. There’s no manual for this, but with patience, grit, and a little self-compassion, you can find strength you didn’t know you had.

When You're Doing It All Alone: Surviving the Mental Load of Solo Parenting

There are days when it feels like the walls are closing in. The toddler won’t nap, the kitchen is a disaster, the laundry has become its own ecosystem, and you haven’t sat down—let alone showered—in what feels like days. There’s no help coming. No partner walking through the door to tag in, no grandparent on call, no babysitter to offer relief. The house is loud, messy, and so very full of needs—but there’s no room left for you.


This is the unfiltered, unromantic side of parenting that rarely makes it into Instagram captions or parenting books: the deep, relentless isolation of doing it all alone.



How It Impacts Your Mental Health


When every ounce of your time is claimed by tiny hands, your mental health can quietly slip through the cracks. You stop noticing how tense your shoulders feel. You lose interest in things you once loved. Work becomes a guilt-ridden juggle (if you can even get to it), and the idea of fun? Laughable. There’s no room for play or peace when you’re constantly firefighting. Over time, this wears on even the strongest, most loving parents. Exhaustion becomes your baseline, and burnout begins to look like your new personality.


What If No One Is Coming to Help?


So how do you come back from this—when no one is coming to rescue you? The answer isn’t about finding a village. It's about becoming your own backup system. The first step is lowering the bar, without shame. Perfection is not the goal—preservation is. Ask yourself what truly matters today. Is it a spotless floor, or a moment of stillness with your child? Is it folding laundry, or taking five minutes to breathe? Give yourself permission to let some things go. Survival is success.



Build Tiny Systems That Serve You


Next, build in tiny rituals that serve you. They don’t have to be glamorous or time-consuming. Light a candle at the end of the day to mark the fact that you made it. Blast music while you clean just one corner of the house. Keep your favorite snack stashed out of reach of tiny fingers. Reclaim one small thing that belongs just to you. These micro-moments matter more than you think—they are acts of resistance against the overwhelm.


Mental Health Hacks You Can Actually Use


Mental wellness in solo parenting doesn't mean never feeling tired or frustrated. It means having tiny tools in your back pocket to ground you. Practice "box breathing" (inhale for 4, hold for 4, exhale for 4, hold for 4) while your toddler screams. Write out a brain dump before bed to quiet the mental spiral. Keep a “peace basket” of toys that buys you 15 minutes to sit, breathe, or do something small for yourself. Your toolkit doesn’t have to be big—it just has to be yours.


Affirmations for the Days That Break You


When the noise gets too loud, come back to affirmations. Not the cheesy kind, but the kind that hold you steady:


  • “I’m not failing—this is just hard.”

  • “My child doesn’t need perfect, they need loved.”

  • “It’s okay to feel tired. It doesn’t mean I’m not strong.”

  • “I’m doing more than enough with what I have.”


Write them on sticky notes. Set them as phone reminders. Whisper them to yourself when the silence finally comes.


Coming Back Strong, One Moment at a Time


Coming back strong doesn’t mean leaping out of burnout in one dramatic moment. It means slowly, quietly rebuilding your energy one small win at a time. Let yourself celebrate what you did do today. The lunch you made. The tears you soothed. The meltdown you survived. The laugh you shared. These things matter. They count.


You may not have help. You may not have time. But you have something powerful: the ability to get back up, again and again. And that is nothing short of heroic.


A Question Worth Asking


What if the real mark of a strong parent isn’t how well they do it all—but how bravely they do it alone?


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉



More Related Articles:

  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • Apr 18

It's time to unlearn helplessness and remember that your actions do have power and impact. When you unlearn helplessness, you begin to replace fear with choice and inaction with growth.

The Lie You Learned: How to Unlearn Helplessness and Reclaim Control

You didn’t choose to feel powerless. You didn’t choose to doubt yourself at every turn. And you certainly didn’t choose to believe that no matter what you do, it just won’t be enough. But somewhere along the way—perhaps gradually, perhaps suddenly—you absorbed those messages. You learned to stop trying because trying didn’t seem to change anything. You learned to shrink yourself because growing didn’t feel safe. This message has a name. It’s called learned helplessness. And it’s a lie.


The Psychology of Giving Up


The idea of learned helplessness was introduced by psychologist Martin Seligman in the 1960s. Through now-infamous experiments, Seligman observed that dogs subjected to inescapable electric shocks eventually stopped trying to escape—even when a clear way out was offered later. The dogs had learned, through repeated exposure to pain and powerlessness, that nothing they did mattered.


Humans experience a similar phenomenon. When we face repeated failure, rejection, or trauma—especially in situations where we feel out of control—we may start to generalize that feeling of futility to other areas of life. Eventually, we don’t just feel powerless in one situation; we begin to feel powerless in every situation. This can manifest as giving up before even starting, avoiding risks, silencing our own needs, or feeling unworthy of change. The cruel irony is that the more we act on these beliefs, the more we reinforce them—until they begin to feel like truth.


Where It Comes From


Learned helplessness often begins in early environments where choice and autonomy were absent or punished. If you grew up in a household where your voice was ignored, where failure was met with shame, or where nothing you did was ever good enough, you may have internalized the belief that your efforts didn’t matter. Similarly, systemic forces like poverty, racism, or chronic illness can teach us—directly or indirectly—that no matter how hard we try, we can’t change our circumstances. Over time, this leads to passivity, hopelessness, and a deep-rooted fear of failure.


But these patterns are not your fault. They are a survival response. They once protected you from pain, disappointment, or danger. The good news is: what was once learned can also be unlearned.


Unlearning the Lie


Unlearning learned helplessness is not about flipping a switch or pretending everything is fine. It’s a gradual, layered process of reclaiming power, rewriting inner narratives, and stepping into the belief that your actions do matter. Here are five foundational practices to begin that journey.


1. Rebuild the Link Between Action and Outcome


The heart of learned helplessness is the false belief that “what I do doesn’t make a difference.” To challenge this, you have to begin collecting evidence that proves otherwise. Start with small actions you can control—ones that create visible results. This might be organizing a messy drawer, preparing a healthy meal, going for a walk, or speaking up in a meeting. These tiny acts of agency send a message to your brain: I can influence my environment. Over time, as you string together these moments, you begin to rewire your internal logic. You begin to believe—truly believe—that your choices count.


2. Recognize the Voice of Conditioning


Learned helplessness often operates like a quiet narrator in the back of your mind. It might say things like, “There’s no point,” “You’ll just fail again,” or “Someone else could do it better.” These thoughts may feel like truth, but they’re actually echoes of past experiences. When you notice these messages, pause. Ask yourself: Is this actually true? Or is this fear talking? Imagine someone you love saying these words about themselves—how would you respond? This practice of noticing and challenging internalized scripts helps you separate the past from the present.


3. Rewrite the Narrative


Your identity is shaped by the stories you tell yourself. Learned helplessness tells a story in which you are always the victim, always at the mercy of others, always stuck. Rewriting that story doesn’t mean pretending the pain didn’t happen—it means giving yourself a new role. Instead of saying, “I’ve failed too many times,” you might say, “I’ve survived more than most people know.” Instead of “I can’t do this,” try, “I’m learning how to try.” This reframing creates space for growth, possibility, and pride in your resilience.


4. Curate Empowering Environments


The people and places you surround yourself with either reinforce your helplessness or challenge it. Take inventory: Do your relationships encourage you to take risks and advocate for yourself, or do they subtly discourage growth? Does your workplace allow you to contribute meaningfully, or does it make you feel invisible? Do your routines nurture your confidence or numb it? Even small shifts—like joining a supportive community, changing your physical space, or setting boundaries—can help you move toward environments that empower, not diminish, you.


5. Seek Support Without Shame


Healing learned helplessness is deep work—and no one should have to do it alone. Therapy, especially modalities like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), Internal Family Systems (IFS), or EMDR, can be life-changing tools in unpacking the beliefs that hold you back. Support groups, coaching, and trusted friends can also offer perspective and validation. Asking for help is not a weakness—it’s a radical act of self-respect. You don’t have to prove your strength by suffering in silence.


The Quiet Revolution


Recovering from learned helplessness isn’t about becoming fearless or flawless. It’s about making a different choice—again and again—even when your fear says it won’t matter. It’s in the job you apply for, even though you think you’re not qualified. It’s in the boundary you set, even though you’re scared of losing someone. It’s in the art you make, the risks you take, the voice you use. Each act is a declaration: I am not powerless anymore.


The journey isn’t linear. You’ll have setbacks. You’ll have days when the old voices are louder than the new ones. But if you keep choosing to try—if you keep choosing yourself—you will change. You will grow.


So let me leave you with this:


If you stopped believing your efforts were pointless… what kind of life could you begin creating today?

💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉



More Related Articles:

Supporting your teen through an identity crisis after being unsupportive takes humility, courage, and a willingness to grow alongside them. It’s never too late to rebuild trust—it starts with listening, apologizing, and choosing connection over control.

When You Realize You Got It Wrong: Supporting Your Teen Through an Identity Crisis After Being Unsupportive

There’s a moment in parenting that’s hard to admit out loud. It’s not the loud fight or the slammed door—it’s what happens after. It’s the cold silence, the withdrawn eyes, or the gut-wrenching moment when you realize your child no longer trusts you with their inner world.


Maybe your teen confided in you about wanting to quit sports—something they’ve done since age five—and instead of asking why, you told them they were being ungrateful or lazy. Maybe they started dressing in ways you didn’t understand, pulling away from your family’s faith traditions, expressing political beliefs that clashed with your own, or admitting they don’t know what they want out of life anymore. Maybe they said they felt numb, anxious, like nothing makes sense anymore—and you told them to toughen up or stop being dramatic.

At the time, you may have thought you were protecting them. You thought discipline or tough love would snap them out of it. But now you realize that what they were offering wasn’t rebellion—it was vulnerability. They weren’t trying to defy you. They were trying to show you who they are becoming—and hoping you’d meet them there.


And the truth is… maybe you didn’t.


But now you’re here. And you’re asking the question that matters most:Is it too late to rebuild the trust I’ve broken?


Why It Hurts—For Both of You


Teenagers don’t come with roadmaps. They are walking contradictions—hungry for independence and desperate for approval all at once. They’re experimenting with new ideas, new clothes, new music, and even new names for themselves. They’re trying to make sense of their world in the middle of a flood of hormones, social pressure, and uncertainty about the future.


This is all part of a normal identity shift—but when your child no longer feels emotionally safe in your presence, they retreat. And the pain of that disconnection cuts both ways. Your teen feels rejected, unseen, or punished for simply exploring who they are. And you, as the parent, are left feeling helpless, confused, and maybe even ashamed.


And here’s the twist—many of us were raised by parents who didn’t know how to hold space for our identities either. You may not have had anyone teach you how to respond with grace when someone you love changes before your eyes. So, when your teen pushes boundaries or brings you hard truths, your first instinct might have been control, not curiosity. Judgment, not understanding.



But the good news? Awareness is the first door back in.


The Turning Point: Awareness and Accountability


There is one sentence that has the power to begin healing even years of distance:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get it right.”


No excuses. No “but I was just trying to help.” Just the raw truth of your heart.

You might say:


“I see now that I didn’t really listen when you were trying to tell me something important. I pushed you away when I should’ve pulled you closer. I thought I was protecting you, but I ended up making you feel alone. I’m so sorry.”

This kind of humility doesn’t erase the past, but it does soften the present. And for many teens, hearing this opens a door they had assumed was shut forever.


How to Rebuild Connection and Trust


1. Acknowledge Your Impact, Not Just Your Intention


It’s easy to fall back on, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” But healing starts when we stop focusing on our intentions and start focusing on their experience.

Even if you didn’t mean to minimize their feelings or shut them down, the reality is—they felt hurt, dismissed, or unloved. Saying something like:


“I realize now that when I told you to ‘snap out of it,’ it made you feel like your pain wasn’t valid. That wasn’t okay, and I regret it.”

…goes much further than explaining what you meant to say. It tells your child: I’m listening now.


2. Get Curious, Not Controlling


Let go of the desire to manage the outcome. When your child says, “I don’t know who I am anymore,” or “I don’t believe what we used to believe,” or “I don’t want to go to college like everyone else”—don’t jump into solution mode. Instead, pause. Breathe. Listen.

You might ask:


“Can you help me understand what’s been weighing on you lately? What’s changed for you?”

And then—really listen. Don’t interrupt. Don’t defend. Just be present.


Even if they shrug, say “I don’t know,” or clam up—trust that your calm, open presence is planting seeds. Many teens test the waters to see if you're safe enough for honesty.


3. Do the Work (So They Don’t Have To Carry It All)


Your teen shouldn’t have to bear the weight of your learning curve. If they’re going through an identity crisis related to mental health, spiritual beliefs, gender roles, body image, or anything else, you need to do your own homework.



  • Read books about adolescent development and emotional regulation.

  • Watch videos or read blogs from people who’ve navigated identity shifts.

  • Join parenting forums or therapy groups where others are learning too.


You could say:


“You don’t need to explain everything to me right now. I’ve been doing my own reading and learning. I want to understand you better without putting the pressure on you.”

This tells them: You’re worth my effort.


4. Love Without Conditions


Your teen needs to know that your love isn’t a prize for being “good,” obedient, or familiar. They need to know it’s permanent, even when they’re distant, uncertain, or different from who you imagined they’d be.


Start saying things like:


“I love you no matter what. Even if we don’t see things the same way. Even if you’re still figuring it out. I love you. Period.”

Let that be your baseline. Every single day.


5. Show Up—Consistently and Imperfectly


Healing won’t happen overnight. Your teen may still act cold or skeptical at first. That doesn’t mean your efforts aren’t working—it just means they need time to believe this version of you is real.


Show up in quiet, reliable ways:


  • Leave a note in their backpack.

  • Make their favorite meal without saying a word.

  • Text them, “I’m proud of you,” even if they don’t reply.

  • Invite them for a walk or a coffee without pressure.


Your presence is more powerful than you know. Even when it’s not acknowledged, it’s noticed.


What Teens Wish You Knew (Even If They Can’t Say It)


They may not say it out loud, but most teens are desperately hoping you’ll try again. They’re scared you won’t accept them if they tell you the whole truth. They’re afraid they’ll disappoint you if they stray from the path you laid out for them. But beneath all that… they still want you in their corner.


They don’t need you to be perfect. They just need to know you care enough to keep showing up.


It’s Not Too Late—Not If You’re Willing to Grow


You can’t rewind the moment when you got it wrong. But you can absolutely rewrite what happens next.


This isn’t about fixing your teen. It’s about growing with them. Loving them loudly and consistently, even when you’re unsure. And making sure that when they’re struggling with identity—whether that’s mental health, values, purpose, or direction—they never have to doubt that they’re still worthy of your love.


And maybe, in the end, your teen will choose a life, path, or belief system that looks different from your own. Maybe they’ll chase dreams you never considered or hold values that challenge yours. That’s okay. That’s part of growing up.


Because ultimately—it’s their life to live. And your trust in their ability to navigate it is one of the greatest gifts you can give.


They don’t need a perfect parent. They just need one who stays.


Eye-Opening Question to End With:


If your teen knew—deep in their bones—that your love doesn’t depend on who they become, how differently would they open up to you today? And are you ready to prove it to them?


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉



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