I have this one head. It is a normal sized head. It didn’t get bigger because I had children. Just like I didn’t grow an extra arm with the birth of each child. I mean, while that would be nice, it’s just not the case. We keep our one self. And the children we add on each add on to our weight in this life. And the head didn’t grow more heads because we become a wife to someone. Or a boss to someone.

We carry the weight of motherhood. The decisions we must make each day—fight the shorts battle or not? Make them drink their milk or not? Restrict the iPad use or not? We feel like all the little things equal up to the big things.

We carry the weight of being women—the emotional toll that gets paid each day to carry around our ovaries, our hormones, our crazy mess of thoughts. We feel like we have to figure out everyone’s everything every day.

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We carry the weight of being a wife or a girlfriend or a single mother—figuring out how to be sexy in yoga pants, how to fit sex in after laundry and dishes and floor sweeping and taxi driving, how to connect to the man we once found to be the sexiest person on our planet, because we know if we don’t nurture our relationships now, they won’t be here later.

We carry the weight of being employees or bosses—trying to balance meetings with motherhood, working with wifing, career with housekeeping, because we want to bring home the bacon or we need to feel passionate about something outside of our home.

We carry the weight of ourselves—figuring out how to fit in yoga and eight glasses of water and that hobby that we adore—being people who exist along with the wifing and the working and the momming. 

We wear alllll the hats on one head. And we don’t get to choose which one gets to cover our brains on any given day.

We don’t get to say, “Yes! Today I choose wife mode! Today I will be a sexy beast inside this world of me being a mom and picking my kid’s nose and washing their sheets and signing their communication folder.”

The hats are all there and we have to stack them one on top of the other and hope that we can balance them all atop our skulls. And sometimes, it feels like if we add one more thing, we’ll topple right over. One more thing to tend to. One more plant to water. One more hat to fit.

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How do we, as moms . . . wives . . . women . . . how do we free ourselves of the hats?

One. thing. at. a. time.

Do you feel overwhelmed? Are you constantly heading to and fro and never able to actually be where you are? Are you feeling like “life will be better when?”

Stop. Stop wearing all the hats.

No one expects you to. Except you.

Do you know that? No one expects you to do it all. And if you were questioning that at all, now it’s been said. It’s out there. You have a pass.

No one expects you to rock every single thing. The job. The meetings. The girls’ nights. The PTO. The husband. The kids. The working out. The volunteering. And every other thing. 

You don’t need to be running here and there and everywhere. And if you’re thinking, “It will be better when . . .” What if when never comes? Can you keep doing what you’re doing . . . suspended in a time of in-between . . . a constant state of discontent? Can you keep not honoring what your soul needs at all? Can you?

I want you to really take a look at yourself. Figure out your hats. Figure out which ones you can give a rest—to give yourself a rest. 

The world will not fall apart if you can’t do it all. The earth will not stop turning. In fact, I think you will feel less of a weight. If you don’t feel like you are having to carry it all. 

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What hat can you hang up for a bit? How can you stop yourself from thinking you have to do it all to have it all? How can you feel more here instead of everywhere else? 

Just because you’re a woman, because you are capable of multi-tasking, doesn’t mean you must.

Just because you can do it all, it doesn’t mean you have to try.

And stop carrying all the weight. You’ll be amazed at how much lighter you’ll feel if you dare to try. 

Ashli Brehm

Ashli Brehm = Thirtysomething. Nebraska gal. Life blogger. Husker fan. Creative writer. Phi Mu sister. Breast cancer survivor. Boymom. Premie carrier. Happy wife. Gilmore Girls fanatic. Amos Lee listener. Coffee & La Croix drinker. Sarcasm user. Jesus follower. Slipper wearer. Funlover. Candle smeller. Yoga doer. Pinterest failer. Anne Lamott reader. Tribe member. Goodness believer. Life enthusiast. Follow me at http://babyonthebrehm.com/