QUIET QUITTING MOTHERHOOD: BURNT OUT OR BRUTALLY HONEST?
By Nicole Fuge
There’s a quiet revolution stirring behind the school drop-off lines, packed lunchboxes, and never-ending to-do lists of modern motherhood. One that doesn’t come with loud declarations or perfect Instagram grids. It’s not another movement asking women to do more, it’s asking them to finally do less. Enter: quiet quitting motherhood.
It’s not what it sounds like. We’re not walking away from our children, our responsibilities, or the deep love that keeps the wheels turning. But more and more women are stepping back from the invisible labour, emotional overwhelm, and glorification of the “supermum” narrative. And they’re doing it quietly, but consciously.
Because maybe we’re not falling apart. Maybe we’re just done pretending.
The Invisible Load No One Talks About
For years, mothers have carried more than just babies. We’ve carried the mental spreadsheets of school uniforms, birthday RSVPs, grocery lists, childcare gaps, dentist appointments, and who needs what by when. We remember that the green water bottle is the only acceptable one, that the tuckshop order is due by 8.30am, that the forms need signing and the sunscreen needs topping up. Every day.
This is the emotional and mental load of motherhood, and for generations, it’s gone unseen, unspoken, and unpaid. It’s the work behind the work. And it’s exhausting.
So when a mother decides not to stay up until midnight baking for the class fundraiser, or says no to yet another committee, or lets the screen time roll on a little longer so she can just sit down, she’s not giving up. She’s giving herself a break.
Redefining What It Means to Show Up
The term “quiet quitting” first made headlines in workplace culture. Employees were no longer overextending themselves in toxic environments. They weren’t quitting their jobs, they were quitting the unpaid emotional hustle.
And now, that same mindset is making its way into homes. Because while we’ve been told that good mothers “do it all,” a growing number of us are questioning who decided that was the benchmark to begin with.
Quiet quitting motherhood is not about doing the bare minimum. It’s about dropping the extras that keep us running on empty. It’s about honouring the reality that we’re not machines, and we’re not meant to operate without support, rest, or recognition.
The Guilt Runs Deep, But So Does the Truth
Of course, it’s not easy. We’ve been raised in a culture that measures maternal worth by output: home-baked snacks, spotless houses, perfectly behaved children, colour-coded calendars. Saying no (even to things that are breaking us) can feel like failure.
But what if we reframed that guilt as growing pains? A natural discomfort that arises when we outgrow the box we were placed in?
Quiet quitting is not about withdrawing love. It’s about withdrawing from the expectations that leave no room for ourneeds. It’s about saying: I still care. I just don’t have to prove it through martyrdom.
You Might Be Quiet Quitting If…
You’ve stopped volunteering for every school activity (and you don’t feel bad about it).
You let go of being the “default parent” and started delegating, without apology.
You’ve traded themed bento boxes for sandwiches that actually get eaten.
You no longer say yes to every playdate, party, or group message.
You’re reclaiming your weekends, your mornings, your minutes.
These aren’t signs of disconnection. They’re signs of a mother reconnecting… with herself.
What Happens When We Stop Overfunctioning?
When women stop overfunctioning, the imbalance becomes visible. And for many households, that visibility is uncomfortable, but necessary. Partners start noticing what’s been silently managed. Systems start shifting. Conversations start happening.
It’s not always smooth. It can feel clunky and even chaotic before it feels good. But as a friend recently told me: “The moment I stopped doing it all, I finally realised how much I had been doing. And how much of it no one had even seen”.
Quiet quitting isn’t an exit. It’s an invitation to equity, to shared load, to rest. To living motherhood in a way that includes the mother, too.
So if you’ve been quietly quitting parts of the mothering hustle, you’re not lazy. You’re not selfish. You’re simply choosing to stop abandoning yourself in order to hold everything together.
And that’s not quitting. That’s waking up.
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ISSUE 07