Doing It Solo Together
There’s a unique kind of loneliness that comes from parenting alone—while still being married. You have a spouse, but emotionally and practically, it feels like you’re doing this on your own. You’re the one managing the schedules, calming the tantrums, preparing the meals, and ensuring everyone’s needs are met. Meanwhile, your partner is physically present but emotionally absent, leaving you to carry the weight of parenthood alone.
It’s the ache of sharing a home but not a mission. Of lying next to someone at night, yet feeling miles apart.
You didn’t expect to feel this invisible, this unheard, this unseen—especially not with the one person who vowed to walk this life beside you.
And perhaps the hardest part? Trying to hold it all together for your children when your heart is quietly ripping at the edges. You wonder if it's supposed to be this hard. Does anyone understand you?
I grew up in a home like that—it was just the way of the time. Dad went off to work, and Mom stayed home, carrying the full weight of raising us and holding everything together. She bore the unspoken responsibility for how we would turn out. Looking back now, I see the enormous load she carried—quietly, faithfully, day after day.
I didn’t realize the depth of it until I became a mother myself. That’s when I began to feel it—the invisible weight, the unspoken expectations. I could hear echoes of what my dad expected from her, and I suddenly understood the pressure she lived under every day.
It wasn’t just parenting. There's no job description, and it certainly doesn't stop at 40 hours a week. Honestly, it’s more demanding than my private banking job ever was on its busiest day. It’s legacy-building—quietly, without applause, and most of the time without anyone even noticing.
Just the other day, I sat in a circle of moms, and as we shared, I heard stories that felt all too familiar—women feeling isolated, unseen, carrying so much in silence. Even now, with more moms working outside the home, it still seems like the weight of it all—the schedules, the emotions, the mental load—somehow lands mostly on them.
My husband often talks with other men in his dad groups, and I love how he challenges them—to really pause and notice what shifts when you become parents. For women, it can feel like everything changes overnight. Your body, your pace, your sense of identity—none of it stays the same.
But for dads, especially those working full-time, life often feels more familiar. Yes, a baby changes the atmosphere of a home, but the day-to-day demands—the constant mental load, emotional stretching, the endless juggling—usually land more on the mom.
And just having that recognized—from a dad’s perspective—is powerful. Understanding is often the beginning to change.
That’s usually the issue — it’s rarely intentional. But, from a father's perspective, it can be difficult to fully understand just how radical the change is for a mother, given that his lifestyle is so different. It's not just a new role; it's an entirely new reality.
Perhaps your heart is quietly asking, ‘Is there hope?’ The answer is yes. Absolutely.
Naming the Invisible Load
The real problem—almost every time—is that we don’t talk about it. Or we wait too long, hold it in, and then it comes out in frustration… in a way we didn’t mean, but couldn’t hold back. Anyone else?
And like we said, it’s rarely on purpose. Most men honestly don’t see it. It’s perplexing, even foreign to them—because often, they didn’t grow up seeing their dads help or share the load. Some saw “leadership” as silence or distance. ...but deep down, you’re hoping he’ll somehow just get it.
Oh, how many nights I’ve laid in bed—tossing, turning—silently hoping my husband would just feel what I needed. While he slept peacefully beside me, I was wide awake, waiting for him to sense my overwhelm, my tiredness, my unsaid needs.
That he’d see it, feel it, figure it out on his own.
But let me be honest—it doesn’t work like that.
And those quiet, unspoken expectations?
They can slowly build up and become the very place where frustration takes root—and that’s the enemy’s favorite playground. He builds on it with whispers and lies:
“You’re alone in this.”
“He doesn’t care.”
“You always have to carry it all.”
But that’s not the truth.
Silence his voice by bringing things into the light.
Not in anger. Not in a burst of frustration after holding it all in.
But with an open heart—an invitation to be understood.
Speak in ‘I feel…’ instead of ‘You never…’ or ‘You always….’ It changes everything. Saying, ‘I feel hurt when the dishes pile up because I value a clean space’ is very different from saying, ‘You never help around here.’ Or, ‘I feel alone when you come home late without letting me know’ instead of, ‘You always ignore me.’
‘I feel…’ creates room for connection instead of conflict, for grace instead of accusation. I had to learn that the hard way. For far too long, ‘You never…’ and ‘You always…’ filled my vocabulary. And let me tell you—they don’t work.
Invite God In
Then, after you’ve spoken to your spouse—invite God into it.
Because here’s the truth we all need to learn early on:
We can’t change or control our spouse.
That’s not our role.
What you can do is take responsibility for your own heart, your own steps.
Bring it all to God—the frustration, the feelings, the things you can’t seem to say out loud.
Don’t hold back. He already knows it all, and He’s not overwhelmed by any of it.
Let Him meet you right there—in the middle of it.
Ask God for fresh revelation.
For a word you can speak and pray over your spouse.
For clarity on your role in this moment.
You are called to shift the atmosphere in your home—but not in your own strength.
Don’t wrestle to carry it alone.
It happens on your knees.
In that quiet, surrendered place—
that’s where you receive the fresh aroma of His presence,
the fragrance that fills your home.
Involve your sisters
The Body of Christ is here to walk with you—whether it’s a moms group, a Mothers in Prayer circle, or just that safe space where you can be real. There is power in community.
Where you know you’ll be heard, lifted up, and prayed over.
Where women become warriors beside you, holding up your arms when you feel too tired to lift them yourself.
Romans 12:10 (NIV)
"Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves."
This verse paints such a beautiful picture.
I know the feeling of not wanting to burden anyone—the silent fear of sharing something that feels so personal. The enemy is quick to plant that lie: “It’s too much. It’s too messy. You’re the only one.”
But here’s what I’ve learned…
There is power in sharing.
There is healing in bringing things into the light.
There is breakthrough when you let your sisters in.
Let them be part of what God is doing in you.
You don’t have to walk this road alone.
Don’t hide when you’re going through a hard season.
Isn’t that often our natural bend?
When things are going well, we love being in community.
But when we’re struggling—when we feel weak or worn—we pull away.
But that’s exactly when we need each other the most.
That’s when the Body of Christ was made to surround you, hold you up, and speak truth over you.
Let’s turn that around.
Let’s be the ones who boldly take a step into vulnerability.
Stand Firm
You may feel worn, weary, even unsure of who you are in this season. But let me remind you: your identity is not defined by the weight you carry, or the silence you've endured.
You are not just surviving this season—you are being strengthened in it.
God has not only called you—He’s clothed you. In dignity. In strength. In truth.
So when the enemy whispers, “You’re not enough. You’ll never be seen.”—stand firm.
This is your invitation to uncover the lies you’ve been holding onto for too long.
This is sacred space—so take a breath, make yourself comfortable, and let Jesus meet you there.
Ask Him:
“Jesus, what lie have I started to believe in this season?”
You might hear a word.
You might see a picture.
You might just feel something deep inside.
Whatever it is—write it down. You asked, and He will answer.
Then gently ask:
“Who helped me believe this lie?”
Sometimes it’s something someone said in passing.
Sometimes it’s silence that spoke too loud.
Now, take that next brave step: choose to forgive.
Because forgiveness is powerful—it breaks chains we weren’t meant to carry.
“But instead be kind and affectionate toward one another. Has God graciously forgiven you? Then graciously forgive one another in the depths of Christ’s love.”
—Ephesians 4:32 (TPT)
Let His love be the source that makes forgiveness possible.
Now ask Jesus:
“What is the truth about me?”
This will be personal.
It will touch deep places in your heart—like only He can.
His words will become the hope you hold onto.
And then, let this become a new habit—
to bring every lie that surfaces into the light.
One by one, hold them up before Him.
Let Jesus speak truth over each one.
This is where healing begins—
lie by lie, step by step,
truth by truth.
Will everything change overnight when you follow these steps?
Probably not.
And these steps aren’t a checklist.
They’re a sacred invitation into a journey—one that unfolds slowly, deeply.
Because fervent prayer doesn’t just change circumstances—it changes us.
It’s not about fixing the other person.
And yes, I know—that can feel frustrating.
Especially when you’re already carrying so much. And now even this feels like something else for you to carry?
But hear me: this isn’t about pressure—it’s about presence.
Step by step, let the Holy Spirit lead.
He will give you what you need in each moment.
And even if you start reluctantly, you’ll find your cup being filled—
with hope, with love, with grace, with renewed vision.
And as He fills you, the frustration begins to overflow and wash away.
Will you let Him start there? In your brokenness?
You are positioned.
You are placed—as a wife, a mother, a woman in your community.
It’s not by accident.
It’s strategic. It’s a divine appointment.
When you begin to see His plan unfolding—when you recognize the mission woven into your everyday—it won’t just stir your heart.
It will awaken the warrior within you.
The one He’s called.
The one He’s equipped.
The one the enemy hoped would stay asleep.
There is so much more dear momma, You are a daughter of the King, walking out a calling that reaches generations.
Don’t give up. There’s a war raging for our families—for the very legacy God has placed in your womb and in your home. Let’s fight back, not with fear, but with His Word.
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