So they say, everything will be fine, you just need to get through it.

Sleepless nights will pass. Don’t complain.

Your baby will walk soon — why worry so much?
Be more consistent, or your child won’t listen to you.

I heard all these well-meant pieces of advice, and none of them helped. Not because the people didn’t care, but because they weren’t really seeing me. They were speaking from their own experiences (which are valid), but it wasn’t mine.

The irreversible nature of parenthood is something we rarely talk about, or not enough.

It’s Maternal Mental Health Awareness Week. Let’s talk real.

the change went under my skin

When I became a mother, I felt like a pebble dropped into deep water. I sank. I lost track of where the surface was.

Growth doesn’t always look like progress. Often, it looks like being stuck, like not knowing who you are. Like waking up tired for months or years on end.

For me, it took almost two years to take my first deep breath again.

What helps me? Time, rest, and support. And slowly grieving what I’d lost.

Not just my sleep or my freedom, but my whole identity. Motherhood didn’t just add, it reshaped my entire life.

And it’s so hard to carry this alone.

rebuild from scratch

Giving birth and everything that comes after flips your world upside down. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. Your old identity may not fit anymore, but the new one isn’t built yet. That’s disorienting.

Support helps. There are professionals trained in maternal mental health: look for them. It makes a difference. Books, articles, therapists, and communities. All of it helps when it’s hard to find your footing.

Even one person who truly listens—your mom, your friend, your neighbour—can be enough in the beginning. When they are the right kind, online spaces can also be a lifeline. It takes trial and error, but the right connection is worth it.

how do you know you’ve grown?

You start seeing things differently. You accept some things as they are, and recognise what can change. You understand the balance between those two. And you see your room for growth.

You act differently. You’re more aware of what matters. Some things that never bothered you now do. Other things don’t matter the way they used to. What’s inside starts to shape how you move in the world.

Your priorities shift. A mother's intuition is strong. If you listen to it, it will guide you.

And all of that — it’s growth.

Daniel Stern wrote about this in The Birth of a Mother. It’s not an easy read, but it’s worth it. It explains how deeply the process of becoming a mother transforms us.

These changes don’t just fade. We carry them, live through them. We build a future from them.

It feels heavy because it’s the hardest thing.

But you’re doing it.

You know more than you think, you carry the wisdom, not just knowledge.

we won’t see our real effect

When we become mothers, the changes don’t stop after the early months or years. The experience keeps shaping us. What we go through, how we process it, how we show up each day, it all has an impact. Even if it’s not visible right away.

Our kids carry something from us, and they’ll pass it on one day. We influence more than we realise. Not just with what we do, but with who we become.

That’s why it matters how we talk about maternal mental health.
It’s not just about surviving the first year.
It’s about understanding that the change is real and stays with us.
Not dramatically or symbolically, but in very practical, everyday ways.

When we see it clearly, we can also take it seriously.
And start giving ourselves the space and support we need to carry it well.

You can’t go back was originally published in Modern Women on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

my sceptical reflection

I am sceptical. I was taught to be so.

Every day, I see at least 15 “tips & tricks” articles, all making the same implicit promise: “This will be life-changing. This is it!”

First, I’m burnt out from these.

Second, I hate how these articles reduce me — and life itself — to simplistic formulas.

Third, I feel the pressure and urgency they create, trying to convince me this is exactly what I need.

Nope. Please, do not spam the internet with more of these (stoic laugh).

the contextless void

The fundamental problem isn’t the advice itself — it’s the lack of context, the noise, the grand promises of simple solutions.

We all know what’s supposedly “good for us” by now. Anyone who uses the internet has likely read countless times that mental health benefits from breathing techniques, relaxation, time spent in nature, mindfulness, meditation, journaling, drinking water, and setting boundaries…

Everything has already been written. There is nothing new under the sun.

The question that fascinates me is: why do we keep believing that “just this one thing” will be enough? Why do we consume this content knowing it rarely fits our lives or becomes integrated into our routines?

the shepherd’s romance

When I was in high school, every time I travelled home by bus, I passed a field with sheep, goats, and a shepherd.

Back then, I thought: I want to be a shepherd. I envied him then, and I believe I still do now. I understand that lifestyle has its harsh realities, yet the romance of the shepherd still attracts me. To be one with the natural world surrounding me, to be a part of it, even as I read those daily “5 mindfulness tips” while completely unable to sense the world around me or my place in it.

How can I rest, recharge, or rediscover myself when something is constantly stealing my attention?

beyond tips & tricks

I have a strong feeling that finding balance requires help and companionship. I’m thinking of physically present things. Someone with whom I can rediscover what life is — something far more beautiful and complicated than what these simplified, contextless articles claim.

Must every article have a conclusion, or can we leave questions open? I know that human-scale content isn’t profitable today, but I wouldn’t be true to myself writing anything else.

an invitation to reflect

I’m curious about your experiences: Have you ever read something that genuinely changed something within you? Not just information you consumed and forgot, but content that became integrated into who you are?

In a world drowning in advice, have you found pieces that transcend the “tips & tricks' formula and actually transform your perspective or habits?

I believe that valuable content allows you to breathe, to think, to reflect truly. It invites you into a conversation rather than prescribing solutions. It acknowledges the messy complexities of human existence, rather than offering neat little packages.

This pace of life feels unsustainable. Our rhythm (if there is any) is disrupted, our existence becoming fragmented while we remain glued to our screens.

Don’t get me wrong — this happens to me too. I’m not outside of it.

But I’ve grown angry, and I want to reclaim my time, my space, my thoughts.

What about you?

rage, fury, resentment.

A four-year-old child is hitting, screaming, and crying because their Kinder Egg contained a turtle instead of the cute fox. Ugh! What an overwhelming injustice.

When was the last time you felt anger with similar intensity?

Exactly, I thought so.

Socially, such reactions are only acceptable from small children. But that doesn’t mean we don’t experience the same internal turmoil.

We all respond differently to feelings of anger:

• some people reveal nothing on the surface while chaos rages within;
• others turn red-faced with bulging eyes;
• some even giggle and smile — all these can be expressions of the same emotion.

When you were last truly angry, what were your first thoughts? Probably not “this is a valuable growth opportunity.” Anger is one of our most misunderstood and suppressed emotions. Our society — especially for women — suggests that anger is something to suppress, feel ashamed of, or quickly move past.

But what if anger is actually a resource? What if anger — when properly handled — could be not just normal but useful?

the original function of anger

From an evolutionary perspective, anger doesn’t exist by accident. Its fundamental functions are to:

• signal when our boundaries have been crossed
• provide energy for change
• highlight our values and priorities
• protect us against injustice

Anger existed, exists, and will exist. The question is how we handle (or don’t handle) it.

the cost of suppressed anger

Today, we often don’t even recognize when we’re angry. We become passive-aggressive, eat, drink, act rudely to neighbors, or drive on roads like there’s no tomorrow.

But wait — stop and listen for a moment!

Your body is trying to tell you something.

And yes, anger is uncomfortable — what should we do with it, where should we put it, make it go away. But anger’s energy persists even if we transform it into something else.

When rage finds no outlet, it can show up in much more destructive forms or transform into psychosomatic symptoms.

the art of anger

I acknowledge that accessing anger isn’t easy; it requires inner work. Anger signals that something is wrong, that one of our boundaries has been violated. Our anger is about us, not about others. What triggered it is a separate question.

How can we begin to work with our anger?

1. recognize & acknowledge: detect anger in the body (tension, increased heart rate) and name the emotion.
2. intentional pause: Creating space between reaction and response — take a few deep breaths or a short walk.
3. ask questions: what is this anger signaling? which of my boundaries has been crossed?
4. find a way to express it:

• communicate: “when x happens, I feel y and I need z ”
• physical release: running, boxing, lifting weights or just shouting in the woods
• creative: writing, art, music

anger can teach us

So when we pay attention to it, it can teach us much about ourselves.

It shows what’s important to us.

What we need but didn’t recognize.

Where to draw the line.

It can give us courage to speak up for ourselves.

dragons and witches

Anger — like all our emotions — deserves attention.

It’s not about letting rage run free but about acknowledging, understanding, and constructively using the signal it carries.

I like to personify anger within myself: dragon, monster, or wicked witch? They all exist within me. But once it takes form, it can express what it wants to communicate. Then it can become anything over time: even a lovable one-headed dragon or a spellcasting old woman.

How do you relate to your own anger? What helps you coexist with it more easily?

Share your thoughts in the comments.

International Women’s Day always makes me reflect on where we are on the road to women’s equality. What does it mean to be a woman today? What do I wish for the women around me and for those I haven’t met yet?

These thoughts aren’t just for one day, but for everything I want to see in the future — a world where women can live, choose and exist as full human beings. Here are my heartfelt wishes:

For my daughters, I want a childhood where they can develop and nurture their personalities—to be brave, sensitive, and wise. I want them to be who they really are in this world, not who they’re expected to be.

For my female friends, I wish they could live their lives as full participants, making decisions for themselves about their circumstances, their bodies, and their souls. I want them to have supportive partners who respect and value them, work that they find meaningful, and a salary allowing them to choose their destiny.

For my mother, I wish that she never forgets her values and lives her life fully through her own perspective.

For my fellow women, I wish they didn’t have to compromise their femininity. They know they deserve love just for who they are. I wish they can find out and decide what they want from this life. I also wish for their own wishes to come true and for them to experience a female community that truly supports them.

For myself, I wish to find my voice that allows me to truly connect with my fellow women. I feel responsible for women, and I have the determination to act and make a difference for them, together with them.

P.S. Also, to my husband, thank you for the effort with which you nurture and support us every day, for your appreciation, and for your faith in us. We love you.

For me, Women’s Day is about reflecting on the future we’re building for ourselves and the next generation.

Behind all my wishes is the hope that we’re moving closer to a world where those wishes are no longer wishes but everyday realities.

What do you want for yourselves as women today? And what kind of world would you like to live in?

My Journey

In 2010, I thought I would hit the best year of my life. I was about to move to Bavaria, to a children's clinic, to work as a volunteer. One whole year, starting something new with a blank page.

I remember travelling by train from Munich and watching the cows in the meadow. It felt incredibly romantic (yes, I am the generation growing up on Heidi and Sissi), totally different from my hometown and inspirational.

The Alps were close, and the smell of cow poo felt like a new home for me.

Reality Check

And then reality hit.

I was the only Hungarian in the small village, maybe the only foreigner. I was lonely, and my belief — yes, I speak German — immediately faded. My mentor was grumpy and horrifying at first, but after that, I got the info she was dealing with a serious illness.

Every week I visited the German language class, I had to walk a good 40 mins to get there, and because I had no car, I had to walk through the 20–30 cm snow on the meadow.

Fortunately, that part I loved very much.

Finding Hope Through Progress

My German got better in 6 months, and I did not recognize it, but my colleagues told me I had improved. I was happy about that. And sad about everything else.

Depression is hard in a foreign environment, where there’s only a tiny hope that someone will understand what’s wrong with you.

The Power of Daily Writing

At that time, I started to write my diary daily— one A4 page filled with complaints, questions and negativity.

It turned out later that this was the best thing I could do then. Research shows that writing is a powerful tool for processing difficult emotions. I now know I was acting on instinct, turning my frustration into processing.

Expressive writing, as it is called, helped me to change my perspective and distance myself a little from the problem at hand.

A meta-analysis proved expressive writing improves participants’ long-term psychological, physiological, behavioural, and social functioning.

Scientific Evidence

During my Psychology MA, one of my professors taught a class about psychological content analysis. She shared how NASA astronauts were required to keep diaries, significantly improving their mental health and helping them adapt to life and work in space.

Dr. Stuster’s research highlights the importance of journaling as a tool for maintaining psychological well-being and team cohesion during long-duration space missions. His study analyzed journals kept by astronauts aboard the International Space Station.

The findings revealed that regular writing helped astronauts:

• cope with isolation,
• monitor their psychological state,
• and maintain healthy interpersonal relationships in extreme conditions.

The therapeutic benefits of writing work through three main mechanisms:

• Expressive Writing: Writing about emotional experiences helps to improve mental health by releasing pent-up feelings and reducing stress
• Narrative Formation: Organizing experiences into stories helps process emotions and make sense of difficult experiences
• Self-Compassion Writing: Writing about stressful events with kindness reduces symptoms and builds resilience

How Writing Works in Your Brain

The writing process engages your whole brain:

• Thought formation — Turning emotions into words
• Dual hemisphere processing — Engaging both logic and emotion
• Physical writing activation — Strengthening neural pathways
• Secondary emotional processing — Gaining perspective over time
• Memory consolidation — Emotional experiences transform into long-term memory

Isn’t it incredible? When you think you’re venting, you’re actually helping rewire your brain, letting it process difficult experiences.

Starting Your Writing Journey

Today, when I work as a psychologist with clients who struggle to find answers despite endless talking, I recommend writing everything down — whether it’s a quick note or a long paragraph.

You can start small: find 5 mins a day to focus on how are you feeling. Even unpolite prompts can help like “ what the hell is wrong with me right now?”

The key is simply getting it out.

Your Turn to Write

So next time you feel frustrated, sad, or angry, grab a piece of paper and write (swear words are welcome!).

Notice your feelings, and you’ll see some of that burden lifting.

How do you feel about writing and putting your difficulties into words?

Have you tried it before? I’d love to hear about your experiences in the comments.

References

1. Pennebaker, J. (1997). Writing About Emotional Experiences as a Therapeutic Process. Psychological Science, 8, 162–166.
2. Haertl, K., & Ero-Phillips, A. (2019). The healing properties of writing for persons with mental health conditions. Arts & Health, 11, 15–25.
3. Horn, A. B., Pössel, P., & Hautzinger, M. (2011). Promoting adaptive emotion regulation and coping in adolescence. Journal of Health Psychology, 16, 258–273.
4. Stuster, J. (2010). Behavioral issues associated with long-duration space expeditions: Review and analysis of astronaut journals. NASA.

I imagine next year as a beautifully wrapped present with a big red bow on top. Inside are 12 little boxes — 12 precious months, all mine waiting to be unwrapped.

Finding myself again

After four tough years of nonstop caregiving for my babies, I'm finally starting to feel like myself again. There are still chaos and hectic moments, but as my children grow, I'm reclaiming more and more of myself.

I've missed me.

Silence is the way of how I live. The base of my existence. I can only process life if I'm left alone for quite some time.

Summers that shaped me

As a little girl, I spent my summer holidays at my grandma's house—endless summers without phones, the internet, or any instant distraction. We were 60 years apart and didn't always see eye to eye. She needed me to water her paprika plants, and I tried to introduce her to grilled cheese sandwiches (which she never liked or understood).

I can tell you that her rhythm was different from mine. We visited my grandpa's grave every Sunday and some distant relative, who could only talk about how her leg was hurting. Although she never expressed it, I know my grandma also hated this kind of visit.

I remember I was the only girl after a long summer waiting for September school to start.

But those summers are my foundation, my goal for the next 365 days.

Escaping the Noise

I'm tired of always being up to date and being online: news, instant messages, trends, new learnings, constantly improving. I'm burnt out on productivity, even though I once believed I could achieve anything if I wanted to. Life has taught me otherwise.

I left Facebook 9 years ago, and you know what? It was fine. I never missed a thing.

But the thing about phone addiction is what I see now: it's not enough to leave a platform because another one jumps right in instead.

The point is to create an environment without constant distractions. For me, it was my smartwatch. My hubby can reach me, but it has limited reach for useless internet.

I've discovered that I have more strength than I ever thought I had, and I've felt supported — by something greater than myself. Without that, I wouldn't have survived the last few years.

The Art of Being

I remember what it was like to be. It's such a strange feeling now, but it's something I want to rediscover — the way I felt 30 years ago, wanting something to happen just to break the stillness. Now, I long for that stillness: to feel the ground's warmth, watch the ants coming and going, daydream and quietly wish for the future.

Her Legacy Lives On

All my romantic thoughts about life were born in those days. Although my grandmother has passed away, I still feel her presence in every fragmentary moment of silence. I never thought I could carry her memory so vividly, but here she is, still with me.

Whenever I see a beautifully neglected garden where the weed grows and chickens are loud, she's there with me. No words are needed, only the smell of a 50-year-old house without renovation.

The Promise for 2025

This year, I'll clear up all the unnecessary things in my life: objects, attitudes blocking me, emotions I couldn't deal with.

I'm going to build meaningful relationships with the ones I already have. I will go through some tough stuff, and there will be light.

I won't let myself get distracted from what I want: a life where I find joy and space for just being.

Because I know how life is waving now.

2025, welcome — come closer. You are my tribute to her and that simpler way of being.

I’m Building a Better One

So I see her face and cannot remember her name.

I have a word on my tongue, but I cannot say it.

I knew a lot before this happened to me, and now I feel like a failure.

You guessed it, I gave birth.

During my pregnancy, I imagined motherhood (feel free to laugh) like Sailor Moon’s Bunny transformation. Glitter, spins, and tada! There’s the new me, radiating strength and confidence.

And yet, that transformation didn’t lead there. Instead, it brought me to the world of rage and perpetually milk-soaked shirts.

I haven’t had a single solid 4-hour sleep-through, I’m managing the kids’ emotions, and I haven’t even mentioned my husband yet.

Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but I barely recognize myself in the mirror.

I didn’t want to accept this, and now, after almost three years (there’s still hope!) of having my second daughter, I feel like I can get back on track.

I started digging into research and learned something meaningful: my brain wasn’t broken — it was just upgrading itself.

Evolution knew what it was doing!

Science says that pregnancy and motherhood trigger massive brain changes, particularly in regions controlling emotional awareness and threat detection.

A groundbreaking study by Hoekzema et al. (2016) found these changes persist for at least two years after birth, reshaping areas responsible for bonding and threat detection.

It’s all about protecting our kids with our newly installed software and security features.

Research reveals why mothers excel at emotional intelligence, multitasking, and problem-solving. Pregnancy triggers lasting brain changes through hormones like oxytocin, creating new neural pathways.

Plus, all that daily juggling of tasks and reading baby emotions? It’s like a permanent upgrade to our emotional and multitasking abilities.

It sounds better, right?

Waking up because the baby was making noise — it’s for ultimate protection.

Brain fog — the brain is prioritizing. I might forget the outside world, but I know everything about my baby’s schedule, poop, and the reason for crying.

So, I reframed this whole messy experience.

I’m not losing my mind; I’m building a new one.

I started noticing changes:

Just yesterday, my daughter was looking for her teddy bear pyjamas. I walked straight to the closet and pulled them out in one move. (My husband gets the credit for putting them away, but finding them? That’s all me, hahaha.)

After an 18-year break and just 10 lessons, I was back behind the wheel. I never thought getting back to driving would feel this natural.

I’ve returned to my practice as a psychologist and can now remember the tiniest details of my client’s stories.

Motherhood is messy. It is about survival, but it’s also about transformation.

References

Hoekzema, E., Barba-Müller, E., Pozzobon, C., Picado, M., Lucco, F., García‐García, D., Soliva, J., Tobeña, A., Desco, M., Crone, E., Ballesteros, A., Carmona, S., & Vilarroya, Ó. (2016). Pregnancy leads to long-lasting changes in human brain structure. Nature Neuroscience, 20(2), 287–296.

I’m not losing my mind; I’m building a better one was originally published in Modern Women on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

She asked; I tried to be bold

Her simple question

My 4-year-old daughter asked me this morning as we were heading to kindergarten. What a great question from such a tiny human. Her younger sister was loudly explaining something in the backseat. I was driving and thought, This is my moment to teach her something meaningful. (FYI, these moments are my everything)

So I told her: You can be rich in many ways — in your mind, heart, and, of course, pocket.

I couldn’t finish my “lecture” because we arrived, but I know what I want to pass on to her:

• Critical thinking,
• Resilience,
• Self-love,
• Compassion toward others, and
• The gift of speaking foreign languages.

Finding Flexibility in Values

I’m not a huge fan of capitalism or consumer culture. Maybe it’s because I attended a Calvinist high school, where values, faith, and community were the foundation of our daily lives. Back then, I didn’t realize how much this perspective would guide me through life, but after becoming a mother, it has become my compass when I think about raising my kids.

Today, there are so many parenting approaches: gentle parenting, positive discipline, attachment parenting — complete with scripts and guidelines for raising children.

Each promises a pathway to raising kind, compassionate, self-aware kids. But I’ve come to believe that following one specific approach too rigidly can feel limiting. These methods often set narrow paths, and stepping off them can feel like a failure — like your child won’t turn out “right.”

For us, as generational cycle-breakers, this can become a trap. These parenting styles offer promises we’ve yet to see fulfilled, but to achieve their goals, they come with very specific “rules.”

Instead, values are a broader, more flexible framework. They give us a clear direction while allowing us to adapt our actions and words to what works best for us.

Don’t get me wrong — I identify with aspects of these parenting styles, but I don’t believe they should be our only frame of reference.

What It Means to Choose

When I think about being “rich,” I think about richness in my choices, in my words, in living my emotions. I feel rich because I can choose what’s best for my family.

Have you ever had a special moment like this — a chance to verbalize your values? What are the values you hope to pass on to your children?

Tell me, Mummy, are we rich? was originally published in Modern Women on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.