From The Confessional: We Need Social Distance From Our Families Now

For many moms, one of the hardest parts of motherhood—especially in the baby/toddler years when there’s always one sucking on your boob and another crawling in your lap or asking you to wipe their butt—is the feeling of being touched out. The complete absence of personal space and body autonomy can wreak havoc on your psyche. And then, once you finally get all the tiny people asleep in their tiny beds, your partner wants to paw at you and expects affection from you too.

It. Never. Ends.

Does this sound familiar? Are you fantasizing about driving to the middle of a field where no one can find you just so you can actually be alone? Do you dream of someday being alone in a tiny house with just your books, your comfy slippers, and your thoughts? No? Just me? Cool.

Because TBH, the “touched out” part of motherhood—particularly in the beginning when I had three babies in five years—was beyond taxing. We need to talk about this more. We already address breastfeeding vs. bottle feeding and vaginal births vs. c-sections and stay-at-home moms vs. moms who work outside of the home. We talk about all the things, but does anyone warn us that we won’t have any personal space—like EVER—for years? That all the jokes about locking ourselves in the pantry (hahahahaha, *cries*) actually reflect our real lives because we are so fucking desperate to not have another human clinging to our body? That being touched out is really hard on a relationship?

It’s real—this feeling. It’s common and normal, but we need to talk about it. We need to talk about how to carve out alone time for ourselves so that next time the baby needs to eat and the toddler needs a snuggle and your partner needs some physical contact, you’ve filled your cup a little so you can give your family what they need. Because when you’re touched out, there’s nothing left to give.

On top of all the normal challenges of mothering babies and toddlers and desperately needing personal space and alone time, a pandemic hit. And we couldn’t leave the house or meet friends for coffee or bring the kids to Grandma’s house for over a year. Because of Covid, we are touched out more than ever before, and at (or beyond) our breaking point.

Moms of young children know this feeling all too well. We don’t get to go the bathroom alone. We don’t get to shower alone. We don’t get to sleep alone. There. Is. Always. Someone. There.

And it’s apparently not enough that the kids climb all over us and invade our personal space every second they’re awake. Then we have partners who do it too. Seriously bruh, GTFO. Stop grabbing our asses and grabbing our boobs. We just want to read our books, watch our “Handmaid’s Tale”, and go to sleep. None of that involves you, mkay?

And our families, honestly, don’t get it. They don’t understand because they’re not living it. Until you’ve pushed out babies, nursed babies, stayed up all night with babies, changed diapers all day and night, breastfed a baby while holding up a toddler on the toilet, read 900 stories, did 900 puzzles, and wiped peanut butter and jelly off tiny faces 900 times, you don’t know. Because even then, after you’ve done all the things and try to escape, they find you. They always fucking find you—whether it’s in the bathroom, or the pantry, or as you desperately try to escape for a MNO. They cling to your legs, beg to be held, and cry and make you feel like shit for being away from them for even one minute.

No one knows “touched out” like a mom of littles. So partners, if you’re feeling a little neglected or rejected by the woman in your life living this reality, try to put yourself in her shoes. Then do the dishes, do a load of laundry, and send her away to a hotel for a long weekend. THAT is what she needs—not a boob grab. Trust us.