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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Melissa Wirt
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November 11 - November 14, 2025
Parenting Culture Is Broken, and Moms Are Not Okay ISOLATION MINDSET: I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Parenting is supposed to be hard. I’ve got this. VILLAGE MINDSET: Everything is not fine. This isn’t normal. Being a mom shouldn’t feel this hard or this isolating. We’re being set up to fail, and we need to make a change.
A prolonged feeling of loneliness is a sign of need—and of that need going unfulfilled. When we experience loneliness, it’s a signal letting us know that we are connection-deprived, the same way we feel thirst to let us know that we should drink some liquids before we end up dehydrated.
We’ve arrived at a point where we treat friendship and connection as luxuries when they are as essential to our survival as the food we eat. We are increasingly left to go it alone as parents, and it is taking an enormous toll on us mentally, emotionally, and physically.
I used to make dinner for my husband and kids before I left the house anytime I had evening plans. I made sure everyone had eaten a full meal, had brushed and flossed and pottied, and was on the way to bed with the next day’s outfit folded on the dresser before I would dare sneak out the back door. That was my way of coping with the guilt of leaving my family behind. I wasn’t worried that the kids wouldn’t eat. I was worried I was failing because I wasn’t the one providing the meal.
When we neglect to give ourselves the love and care we deserve because we are tending to everyone else’s needs before our own, we are sending the message “I don’t matter.”
We would never in a million trillion years let our children speak to themselves that way. So why do we send ourselves this message? Or model that behavior for our kids with our actions?
the thing about a mind constantly in motion is that it never sits with itself long enough to notice it is in crisis.
My family walked on eggshells around me. Their sentences would start with, “Mom, I know you’re tired, but…” I knew things were bad when the older kids would help the younger ones without being asked, hoping it would prevent me from snapping or raising my voice. It didn’t work.
The problem with our invisible isolation is that it is invisible to everyone else. Other people just don’t see it. Even the most supportive partners and friends might not be champing at the bit to relinquish the time they spend with you. So the only way we are going to be able to create time and space for ourselves is if we claim
could cover taking Chloe to basketball while Sasha went to book club and so Sasha could have one other night to do whatever she darn well wanted to. She missed the special time with Chloe, but her heart was so much lighter because she had affirmed that spending time on herself was valuable.
Take twenty. If you feel ready to banish Giving Tree syndrome and reconnect with yourself, carve out time to do something meaningful and self-affirming. Start by trying to set aside twenty minutes a day for me time. The rule is that this should not be something related to your kids or your partner or your identity as a mom. Don’t worry—the kids will live. Twenty minutes away from their mom is not a scarring experience. In fact, it’s a good experience for them.
It allows you access to the various versions of who you are. Humans are socially complex creatures. We bring many aspects of ourselves to our relationships with other people. With your friend from high school, you might be silly and nostalgic. Your neighbor might bring out the upright citizen in you. You might foreground your diligence and smarts around your coworkers. You contain multitudes, and being around many different people helps you remember parts of yourself that will wither up and die if you don’t nourish them. Increasing the number of people you interact with will remind you of your
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I have no idea what I’m doing as a mom. Who would want me as a friend? VILLAGE MINDSET: I’m an imperfect work in progress, and so is everyone else. Perfectionism is a toxic force that keeps us apart when we need one another most.
those microinteractions add up over the course of a day, helping fill my social cup.
If you want to engineer the possibility of growing a relationship from a casual connection into something substantial, you need exposure. Research shows that the more exposure we have to something, the more we tend to like it. Known in psychology as the propinquity effect, this tendency explains why you grow fond of someone you spend time with even if, on paper, you wouldn’t necessarily have chosen that person as a friend. The more time you spend with someone, the more likely it is you’ll connect.
You can also create proximity and frequent interactions by establishing a consistent routine, like going to the same Mommy and Me class each week, stopping by the same coffee shop in the morning that always seems to have strollers parked out front.
“Is Melissa telling me that I’m supposed to make someone part of my village simply because we see each other at preschool pickup?” The short answer is yes. Building connections takes time. Studies show that it takes adults an average of ninety-four hours to turn an acquaintance into a casual friend and an additional 164 hours to go from casual friend to real friend.
Plan for serendipity. Instead of bolting like the Road Runner when you leave an event, linger for a few minutes and talk to other stragglers. Ask what they thought of the practice or the class or whatever just took place. Or when you’re on your way there, try to coax your crew out the door five minutes early so you can chat before the event. Let the serendipitous thing happen.
when you put forty moms in charge of organizing an event, shit gets done, and it gets done well.
When you join an existing organization, all you have to do is show up. You don’t have to wrangle schedules or persuade people to come or make a shopping list for the snacks you’re going to serve. Most of the behind-the-scenes work—the work that, let’s face it, moms usually do—has already been done, freeing you to focus on connection.
“Defer to the higher authority.” This became a technique I’d use to defuse fights. Instead of telling a toddler that I needed him to go to bed or that he needed to put on his shoes, I would say, “The clock says it’s time for bed” or “The restaurant’s dress code says you have to wear shoes.” It wasn’t a cure-all—it maybe cut down on arguments by 20 percent, but even that was a welcome improvement.
ISOLATION MINDSET: I have plenty of friends. I’m certainly not at a place in life where I want to meet anyone new. VILLAGE MINDSET: Now that I’m a mom, other mothers provide a type of connection and support I can’t find elsewhere.
Sapna is also great at foraging for food—not in her refrigerator for lettuce that hasn’t gone bad, the way I do, but in the actual woods with dirt and chipmunks. She makes meals from foraged fiddlehead ferns, wild raspberries, hard little apples, and, occasionally, mushrooms. She was thrilled one fall when she found a cluster of hen of the woods at the base of a tree in a nearby park. She gathered them in a paper bag, brought the mushrooms home, sautéed them with butter, and served them over pasta at lunch for her husband, Nick, and her son, Sathya, nine, and daughter, Priya, six.
Within an hour, the entire family was fighting for space in the bathroom. Sapna’s heart lurched as she remembered the mushrooms. What if this wasn’t a stomach bug? She’d never picked a bad mushroom before, but how confident was she that the ones she served were edible? To be safe, she packed the family into the car and went to the ER. She was glad she did. Those mushrooms hadn’t been hen of the woods: they were jack-o’-lanterns, a toxic variety. The family received fluids and were monitored for food poisoning.
The next day, she woke up to find a series of text messages from her mom friends. As she scrolled through them, her heart rate slowed. Each of them had shared a story of their own “yikes” moments.
Sapna didn’t need to explain to her friends how ashamed she was. They just knew—and they knew what she needed to hear. That’s the power of having someone who can look you in the eyes and say, “I have been there.” That’s why it is so valuable to make other moms a key part of your village.
you won’t regret widening your circle to include mom friends. You’ll be more informed. You’ll have more people you can turn to for help in a pinch, and, most important, you’ll feel less alone.
mom mentors.
moms who are further down the road on their motherhood journey.
People love to be asked about their lives and how they came to make certain decisions. Pay them the compliment of asking about their philosophy of motherh...
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ISOLATION MINDSET: If I want to find connection, the best way to do it is to seek out people with whom I have the most in common—from our interests to our approach to parenting. VILLAGE MINDSET: We benefit from having a wide circle that includes people whose views and interests differ from our own.
I wouldn’t have said I was judgmental about moms who use formula; it had just been so easy for me to breastfeed that I didn’t see why anyone would make another choice.
In a twisted paradox, we crave belonging, so we seek out people with whom we think we will have the best chance of being accepted—people who are most like us, who make the same choices.
But when we focus on connecting only with people who mirror our values, we cut ourselves off from untold potential connection. The more we look for people who are like us, the narrower the identity we have that allows us to feel a sense of belonging.
Judging other moms for their parenting is a by-product of insecurity.
feeling judged is an enormous barrier to connection.
Imagine for a moment that we’re all at the top of a craggy mountain, and there is a winter storm coming. Dark clouds gather and threaten to dump tons of wet, heavy snow on the peak, potentially setting off an avalanche. We have to get down to the bottom before the sky unleashes its fury. Some people might ski down; others might snowboard or parasail or hike or sled or ride a toboggan or take a chairlift or commission a helicopter. If you are on a pair of rental skis, you might think helicopter people aren’t your people, but we are all just trying to get down the damn mountain without getting
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When you choose the most generous interpretation, you generate compassion, which leads to connection.
They didn’t become best friends, but it made Lucia happy to high-five Hanna after a great play. She was so glad she hadn’t written Hanna off just because she could name every moon of Jupiter. She wasn’t her type, but she was a perfect person to have in her village.
The people I gravitate toward in motherhood aren’t always the people I want to go out for a drink with. But they’re people I trust. Before I became a mom, I’d say the top quality I was looking for in a friend was “Can she make me laugh?” Now it’s “Do I trust her to show up when I need her?”
Can we all just agree that we should focus on what we have in common? Because, my God, we have so much in common.
Widen your circle. Next time you’re in a group situation—at the playground, at a party, milling around after your kid’s trumpet recital—resist the urge to huddle with the two people you know already. Challenge yourself to say a couple of sentences to at least one other person.
ISOLATION MINDSET: Okay, I’ve got some friends, and I see them pretty regularly. That’s basically a village, right? VILLAGE MINDSET: A true village means actively supporting fellow moms in your immediate friend group and beyond.
learn to think of yourself as “a mom who helps other moms.” The very act of thinking of yourself this way will color your choices, and it will make you more inclined to spot and act on opportunities to reach out and help other moms.
Even though I am overwhelmed, I don’t want to be a bother to anyone. I’ll just soldier on.
When friends come to your aid, they aren’t doing it for the thanks. They’re doing it because they want to help, and they probably don’t care whether you are the model of a gracious recipient.
I didn’t feel worthy of anyone’s caretaking in that moment.
being part of a village is not a strict tit-for-tat relationship. I don’t need to earn my place in the village through generous actions
I accept help from a friend knowing that when I am in a place of strength, I will be able to contribute to the village at large.
Think of yourself as doing a favor for the person who is offering. She will enjoy the benefit of feeling good about herself for helping you.
