Written by Brogan Rossi, MS, RYT
As little girls, we’re often told that moms are the most selfless humans on the planet — constantly giving, sacrificing, and somehow stretching 24 hours into 36.
We hear stories of moms who would do anything for their kids, who stay up all night, drive across town 14 times a day, and juggle a million things just to make sure their children feel loved, supported, and set up to thrive.
I know for me, I thought my mom was a superhuman.
And honestly? She was.
She shattered glass ceilings in a time when women weren’t respected in the workplace, showed up at every soccer game, helped with late-night homework and art projects, made home-cooked meals, and supported us through every life transition.
But here’s the problem: I thought that was just how it worked.
That I, too, could do it all. That it was normal—expected even—to give up my entire self in the name of being a great mom, a successful professional, a present partner, and, oh yeah, a functional human. Then came my third child.
And that’s when the wheels completely fell off.
I was running a full-time business as an entrepreneur, trying to be everywhere and everything. My third struggled to breastfeed, and I was sure it was because I was working too much. I had grand plans to take months off for maternity leave, but instead, I was writing offers on homes during labor and back at it a week later.
The business side of me panicked at the thought of letting people down. The mom side of me was drowning in guilt. No amount of love could change the fact that I was busy.
I remember the first time I went to a yoga class after my first was born. I spent the entire hour crying, convinced my baby was devastated that I had left her. Because somewhere along the way, I had absorbed this ridiculous idea that doing anything for myself was taking something away from my child.
And that’s where we’ve got it all wrong.
There’s this wild message out there that basic human needs—showering, eating a meal while it’s still hot—count as “self-care” for moms. That making yourself a priority is selfish. That taking a break is indulgent.
But what if we rewrote the script?
What if we saw "selfish" as self-preservation, self-trust, self-care? What if we understood that taking care of ourselves isn’t a betrayal of our families—it’s the best thing we can do for them?
Because here’s what I’ve learned: When I prioritize myself, everyone wins.
The days I go to therapy, when I exercise, when I make time for joy, for fun, for me—I come home as a better mom. A present mom. My kids don’t just feel my joy—they learn from it. They see, firsthand, that taking care of themselves matters. That their needs, their happiness, their wholeness is worth something.
This is how we get past mom guilt.
This is how we step into our "Selfish Era". And I, for one, am all in.