Once upon a time, there was a woman named @mayt.
She was a loving mother to two beautiful boys — Ryzen, who was two years old, and Aiden, who was just eight months old.
Every day, @mayt's life revolves around their needs: preparing breakfasts, changing diapers, playing, soothing cries, cleaning up messes, and trying to keep up with the endless cycle of chores.
At first, @mayt felt proud of her busy days.
She loved her children passionately and found joy in their giggles and tiny discoveries.
But as weeks turned into months, the exhaustion settled in like an unwelcome visitor.
Her body ached for constant movement, and her mind grew heavy with endless responsibilities.
The dishes piled up, laundry never seemed to end, and her own needs — her dreams, her hobbies, her rest — got pushed further and further back.
Some mornings, she'd look in the mirror and wonder when she'd truly felt herself.
The vibrant, energetic woman she once seemed distant, replaced by a tired shadow.
She often found herself staring at the wall, feeling as if she was just a shell moving through her routine, unable to summon the strength to do anything more.
One afternoon, after putting Ryzen down for a nap and trying to soothe Aiden's cries, @mayt sat on the couch.
Her legs felt like lead, her mind numb.
She wanted to do something — anything — just to feel alive again.
But her body refused to cooperate.
The house was a mess, her mind a jumble of thoughts, and all she allowed herself was a brief, silent cry.
In that quiet moment, @mayt realized she was not alone in feeling this way.
She was overwhelmed and exhausted, yes, but also human.
She knew she needed help, a little break, and most importantly, some compassion for herself.
Slowly, she took a deep breath, wiping away a tear, and vowed to reach out for support, to remind herself that even superheroes need to rest sometimes.
Though her days were still filled with the chaos of motherhood, @mayt learned that acknowledging her fatigue was the first step toward finding again a spark of joy and strength within her.
And that, perhaps, was the most important thing she could do — for herself and for her boys.
Until my next moment of frustration... Buh-bye. 👋🫣