I'm Fine

The Silent Battle So Many Postpartum Moms Are Hiding

Two words. Simple, safe, automatic. I must have said them a hundred times in the first three months after having my baby—even when I was anything but. When my stitches still stung, when I hadn't slept more than 90 minutes straight in a week, when I stood in the shower sobbing so quietly I could still hear the baby cry over the water—I said it. "I'm fine." And maybe you're saying it now too.

Here's the thing: we say it because it feels easier. Because we think we're supposed to be the strong ones. Because we've seen those perfectly filtered Instagram reels where the moms look tired-but-glowy, drinking matcha in a sunlit nursery, and we wonder what's wrong with us for falling apart. But behind closed tabs and under Reddit threads titled "Is it just me?", so many moms are whispering the same thing: "I'm not okay." And you know what? You're allowed to not be okay. Saying you're struggling doesn't make you weak—it makes you real. It makes you brave.

Why So Many Moms Hide Their Struggles

Let's talk about the pressure to be "the good mom." You know her—the one who bounces back, never complains, figures it all out with a soft smile and no spit-up on her shirt. That version doesn't exist, by the way. But the myth is powerful, and it makes so many of us feel like we have to perform competence, even when we're drowning.

Add to that the fact that postpartum mental health isn't talked about enough in real-life settings. Sure, we're starting to have more conversations online, but even there, the highlight reel wins. And in our real lives? A lot of moms feel isolated. Maybe your partner doesn't get it. Maybe your own mom brushes it off. Maybe your friends without kids don't understand why you're so "dramatic" about being tired. So we shrink. We minimize. We keep saying, "I'm fine."

What "I'm Fine" Is Really Hiding

Sometimes, "I'm fine" is covering up postpartum anxiety that feels like your heart is racing even when you're still. Sometimes it's depression that has you scrolling TikTok for four hours because getting out of bed feels impossible. Sometimes it's rage you didn't expect. Guilt. Resentment. Numbness. It's not always sadness. Sometimes it's a flatness, like someone turned your volume all the way down.

And listen—there is nothing wrong with you for feeling this way.

You're not broken. You're not failing. You're a human who just went through a massive identity shift, a hormonal rollercoaster, and possibly physical trauma, and now you're expected to keep a tiny human alive while recovering, smiling, and answering text messages with baby emojis. Yeah, no wonder you're saying "I'm fine" on autopilot.

How to Start Telling the Truth (Even If It's Scary)

So what do we do? We start by cracking the door open—even just a little.

• Find one safe person. Not everyone deserves your rawness, but someone out there can hold space for it. A friend. A therapist. A postpartum doula. Even a Reddit thread if that's where your people are.
• Use soft starters. If saying "I'm not okay" feels too big, try "I'm having a hard day" or "I've been feeling off lately." You don't have to spill everything at once.
• Write it out. Journaling doesn't have to be poetic. Sometimes just dumping your thoughts helps you realize what's under the surface.
• Use your baby's appointments. OBs and pediatricians often ask how you're doing too. If they don't—speak up. Say, "Actually, I've been feeling overwhelmed and I'm not sure what's normal." That opens doors.
• Bookmark resources. Postpartum Support International, the National Maternal Mental Health Hotline (1-833-943-5746), or local support groups can make a world of difference.

You don't need a diagnosis to deserve help. Struggling a little is reason enough. You deserve to feel better—not just survive.

Let's Normalize Not Being "Fine"

Here's the truth: pretending to be okay helps no one. It keeps the cycle going. But every time a mom tells the truth—whether in a whisper, a meme, or a messy voice note—it gives another mom permission to be real too.

So let's normalize saying things like:

"I cried in the bathroom today and I don't really know why."
"This is harder than I expected."
"I need help."

None of those make you weak. They make you wise. They make you honest. And they make you part of a growing sisterhood that says we don't have to mask our pain to be worthy of love, care, and support.

My "I Wasn't Ready" Moment

Real talk? I wasn't ready for how lonely postpartum could feel. People checked in the first week—then disappeared. And I got good at performing okay. I could laugh at jokes, snap cute pics, and say "We're doing great!" while mentally tallying how long it had been since I brushed my teeth.

I thought hiding it meant I was strong. But strength, I learned, was letting someone see me cry without apologizing. Strength was texting "I need you" and accepting the help that came. And slowly, slowly, things got lighter.

If You're Not Fine—That's Okay

You don't have to wear the mask today. Or tomorrow. Or ever again.

Speak your truth in small ways. Let someone see the real you. Let someone show up for you. And remember: you are not alone. You are not the only one. And you are not "less than" for struggling.

We're all out here learning how to mother ourselves while mothering our babies. It's messy. It's brave. And yeah—it's okay to not be fine.

We got this.