Last week, my younger son had a school concert, and for weeks leading up to it, he whispered to me as I tucked him in at night about his overwhelming fear of performing. His reasons seemed to shift daily. Although he adores singing and dancing, he expressed a preference to perform only for me. Then, he mentioned concerns about the heat in the auditorium, recalling how unbearable it was last year. His worries even extended to the other children, as he fretted about their preparedness and how it might affect the performance.
You get the drift—he was grappling with significant stage fright, a perfectly normal experience for kids his age. However, it was becoming increasingly uncertain whether he would even step on stage. On the day of the concert, his emotions were all over the place; one moment he was excited, and the next, he was adamant about not leaving the house to perform.
When my partner, Jake, returned home from work that evening, he burst into the room, exclaiming, “I can’t wait for the show tonight, champ!” I shot him a concerned glance and pulled him aside, explaining that bringing up the concert might not be wise. “Doesn’t he know our son has been stressing about this for weeks?” I thought. But Jake had no idea—our son hadn’t shared his anxieties with him at all. It wasn’t due to a lack of closeness; my partner is incredibly loving and open. Yet, for some reason, my sons choose to confide in me about their deeper struggles.
I’m mostly okay with this dynamic. My children trust me, and since they were little, they’ve been open about their fears, dreams, and everything in between. While many kids don’t share their innermost feelings with their parents, I’m fortunate to provide a safe haven for them.
However, this gift can feel like a heavy burden. Countless sleepless nights have been spent worrying about my children’s emotional landscapes. I know Jake has his own concerns, but he’s not the one replaying late-night confessions that our kids have shared with me.
I’m aware that I’m not alone in this “emotional labor”—a term that many people use to describe the invisible work often shouldered by mothers. It feels like, amidst juggling family schedules, enforcing chores, cooking, and planning, we also take on the role of family therapist, which can be overwhelmingly taxing.
We don’t just absorb our kids’ emotions; we also guide them through various life decisions that become increasingly complex as they grow up. Though our children are independent in their lives, we still carry the weight of their choices and their potential consequences.
I recognize that this is part of parenting, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. Yet, I often wish this emotional load was shared more evenly. Jake is willing to help with the emotional aspects, especially after I pointed out the imbalance, but somehow, the role of “family counselor” has fallen squarely on my shoulders. Given that my kids have established this pattern of sharing with me, I doubt this will change anytime soon.
Perhaps, instead of stepping back from my “family therapist” role, I should delegate some of the other invisible tasks I manage. But those responsibilities are deeply ingrained as well. It’s a lot to handle.
While I adore my children and cherish their willingness to open their hearts to me, I need to acknowledge how challenging this can be. The responsibility of managing their emotions can feel overwhelming, and at times, I worry I might burst under the weight of it all. If you find yourself in a similar situation, know that you’re not alone. It’s perfectly acceptable to love our children while also admitting, “This is hard, and I need a break.”
Maybe what we really need is our own family counselor—someone who sits with us in the dark, listens to our worries, brushes our hair aside, reassures us that everything will be alright, and helps us drift off to sleep peacefully. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?
Summary
The emotional labor of being the “family therapist” often falls on mothers, who manage their children’s fears and feelings while juggling other responsibilities. The author expresses the burden of this role and the desire for shared emotional labor within the family. It’s vital to recognize the challenges that come with this responsibility and to find ways to lighten the load.
Keyphrase
Family emotional labor
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