The “Too Much” Wound in Motherhood: Why Am I Resentful of My Child’s Emotions
There is a particular kind of grief that can surface in motherhood when your child expresses emotions you were taught to hide.
It’s not because you want them to stop feeling. It’s not because you don’t believe they deserve emotional safety. It’s because some part of you still remembers what it felt like when your emotions made other people uncomfortable.
Sometimes, the grief feels especially sharp because giving your child room to have their feelings means you have to quiet yours in that moment. Even when you’re already overwhelmed, already stretched thin, and some part of you wants to scream, What about me?
I see this often with the anxious and overwhelmed moms I work with throughout North County San Diego. And honestly, I see it in myself, too.
The Moment I Didn’t Handle Perfectly
The other day, I was in the car with my daughter after realizing we had to turn around and go back home because she’d forgotten her backpack. I was already at capacity, trying to get everyone where they needed to be, running late myself, and needing to delay a meeting. I could feel the pressure building like an earthquake in my body.
After we grabbed the backpack and got back in the car, I put on music that usually helps calm me down. But it had the opposite effect on her. She immediately became frustrated and overwhelmed, crying for me to “put something good on.”
I wish I could say I responded with immediate calm and spaciousness. But that would be a lie. I didn’t.
Instead, I felt myself tighten. I got upset. I snapped something like, “Fine, then I’ll just turn it off.” Underneath that response were the words that felt most alive in me: Why can’t I just have my feelings too?
I’m not proud of that moment. Not because my feelings were wrong, but because I could feel how quickly I moved from "this is hard" to "her feelings are taking something from me."
Luckily, I caught myself. I took a minute to cycle through the mess of it: the frustration, the guilt, the resentment, the pressure. The part of me that wanted to be left alone and the part of me that desperately wanted to be the "calm mom."
Once I found enough center to come back to her, I apologized. I said, “I’m sorry I got frustrated. We are both having a hard time this morning. It’s okay that you don’t like my music. I love you.”
I’ve thought about that moment a lot since. I don't know if I validated her perfectly, but as a therapist who supports moms with these exact struggles everyday, I think that’s actually the point. Repair does not mean we handled the moment perfectly. It means that when we notice we’ve moved away from connection, we choose to come back.
The Puzzle Beneath the Reaction
For me, that moment highlighted one of the hardest puzzles of motherhood: How do I give my child room to have feelings when some part of me still believes feelings are "too much"?
How do I let her be frustrated, disappointed, or loud when those same emotions once felt unsafe or inconvenient in me? How do I help her stay connected to herself without disappearing from myself?
The pain wasn't just about being late or the music being rejected. It was that, in that moment, making room for her feelings felt like I had to abandon mine. Again.
And that made me angry.
I’ve found that this is the part of motherhood many women carry deep shame around. You are trying to love your child while still feeling angry when their needs require you to pause your own. You want them to have emotional safety while still feeling resentful when offering it asks for more than you have left to give.
That is the “too much” wound. Because although we can do both it is really freaking hard!
It’s more than being triggered; it’s watching your child take up emotional space and realizing how young you were when you learned not to. It’s wanting to raise a child who feels safe having needs while you're still learning to believe your own needs aren’t a burden.
It is hard work. Not because you’re a bad mom, but because motherhood often asks you to offer your child something you are still learning to offer yourself: space, compassion, and the permission to just be.
The goal is not to make your child smaller so you can feel bigger, or to keep making yourself small so they can have space.
The goal is to learn how to make room for both of you.
If this resonates with you and you are looking for support it is never too late or too early to reach out.
At ēma therapy, I support anxious and overwhelmed moms throughout California who are learning how to make room for themselves as motherhood shifts every fiber of their being.
By: Ellie Messinger-Adams LPCC
Owner and Therapist at ēma therapy