“The Myth of the Perfect Mum: What Instagram Doesn’t Show You”

How many of us are striving for perfection? 

To be the perfect wife. The perfect mother. The perfect friend. The woman who shows up at the drop of a hat for the people she loves.
Are you the one who imagined motherhood would look like the magazines—picture-perfect, full of laughter, joy, and constant connection?

If you’re nodding right now or quietly whispering, “Yup, that’s me,” keep reading, girlfriend.

Because I’m about to pop that bubble.

Yes, God made us fearfully and wonderfully in His image. But He didn’t make us to be robots. Not being the image of perfection, doesn’t make you a bad mum, wife, friend, or businesswoman—it makes you human. A human with feelings, limitations, and emotions that matter deeply to your Creator.

For a long time, I wanted to be like the bloggers and YouTube mums I followed. Their houses looked like display homes. Their children seemed perfectly behaved. Their makeup was always done. Their lives looked flawless. But what I’ve come to realize is: that image is unrealistic.

We’ve seen it time and time again—online personalities “come undone” because the life they curated online was far from the truth. Some even caught in heartbreaking scandals and accusations.

Here’s the truth: no family is perfect. Every home has its challenges. That’s why it’s so important to stop comparing ourselves to influencers and start living in our truth. Most of what we see on the internet isn’t the full story—and it never will be.

 

Behind the Scenes of “How do you do it!”

I remember once inviting a bunch of friends and their little ones over for a playdate. One of them looked at me and said,

“Oh man, how do you do it all? How are you surviving with so many little people and solo parenting?”

I think I laughed awkwardly and said nothing. Because the real answer? I was a sinking ship.
My house had been what my four-year-old innocently calls a “trash bin” for over a week. The bathrooms hadn’t been cleaned in a month. And the only reason I had started tidying was because people were coming over.

The night before the playdate, I told myself, “I’ll get up extra early and do it all in the morning.”

Famous last words.

The next day was chaos. I was overwhelmed, snapping at the kids, racing around like a headless chook. I nearly cancelled the whole thing. But by the grace of God, I managed to get the house just clean enough. I even threw on some makeup and clothes that matched. It wasn’t perfection—it was grace and grit.

If you’ve been there too, I see you. You are not alone.

Motherhood Isn’t a Magazine Spread

There’s no instruction manual handed to us when we become mothers. We all carry this vision of what we thought it would look like—and more often than not, we feel a deep disappointment when our reality doesn’t match the dream. Maybe the dream was naïve. Maybe it was idealistic. But that’s okay.

Motherhood is still beautiful. It’s a journey. It reveals both the best and the worst in us. It stretches us and teaches us how to love unconditionally.

We are learning to regulate our own emotions while trying to teach our little ones to regulate theirs. We are managing chaos while feeling overstimulated, underappreciated, and sometimes lonely—especially for stay-at-home mummas who lack regular adult interaction or those in the midst of relocation.

In those moments, when the voice in your head whispers, “You’re not enough,” I want you to hear this loud and clear: Lean into God.
You’re doing the best you can with the tools you’ve been given—and that’s enough.

When Asking for Help Is the Bravest Thing You Can Do

Over the past year, I faced something incredibly challenging. My eldest son, Christian, began acting out toward his little sister—hurting her constantly, and no matter what I tried, nothing seemed to work.

I talked with him about his emotions. I taught him about love and kindness. I tried time-outs, gentle parenting strategies, even removing his favourite toys. But the behaviour didn’t change.

Worse still, I noticed something in me beginning to change. I found myself slipping into survival mode—saying things like,

“Why do you always hurt your sister?”
“You’re being a really bad boy.”
“She’s not going to want to be your friend.”

I’m not proud of those moments.

I started disconnecting emotionally, not because I didn’t love him, but because I felt completely out of my depth. I simply didn’t have the tools. And in the quiet moments, I began to realise something deeper was going on for me.

His behaviour was triggering my trauma.

My greatest fear had surfaced—that my son might grow into a man like my father, who had been abusive. That fear clouded my judgment, and instead of responding with curiosity or compassion, I reacted from a place of pain.

So, I reached out. I booked sessions with a parenting coach—because I knew I couldn’t keep walking this road alone.

Through that support, I came to see that Christian’s behaviour wasn’t “badness”—it was communication. A cry for connection.
What he desperately needed was simple: one-on-one time with me.

Within a week of intentionally giving him that space—just mummy and Christian—the aggression all but disappeared. He was trying to tell me in the only way he knew how that he needed connection.

Even writing that brings tears to my eyes.

So hear me, sweet friend:
It’s not weakness to ask for help. It’s courage. It’s wisdom. It’s love.
You are such a good mum for recognising when it’s time to reach out.

 

You’re Not Alone—And You Don’t Have to Pretend to Be

If you take nothing else away from this, let it be this:

💛 It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.
💛 It’s okay to say, “I need help.”
💛 It’s okay to not have all the answers.

And it’s more than okay to bring it all to Jesus.

“As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.”
— Ephesians 4:1–3

Because the truth is, you are already enough.
And you are deeply loved by a God who never asked you to be perfect—only to be faithful.

Let’s ask for calm in the chaos.

Let’s pray—and then pray some more.

 

💬 I’d love to hear from you. What part of this story spoke to your heart? Whether it was the mess, the motherhood, or the moment of breakthrough—I invite you to leave a comment and share your own journey. And if you’re walking through a hard season and need prayer or encouragement, please don’t hesitate to reach out. I’d be honoured to stand with you, pray for you, or simply listen. We were never meant to do this alone. 💛