When the World Feels Heavy: A Mother and Therapist Reflects on Grief, Compassion, and Choosing Love

Grief Trigger Warning

Sometimes the world feels very heavy.
This is what was on my heart this morning.

Many people, especially highly sensitive and compassionate people, feel deeply affected by suffering in the world. When violence, war, or tragedy appear in the news, it can leave us feeling overwhelmed, heartbroken, or powerless.

Before anything else, I am a mother.

Yes, I am Laura.
I am a therapist.
I am a wife and partner, a sister, a daughter. I am many things in this life. But when my children were born, something shifted in me in a way that is hard to explain to anyone who has not experienced it.

No matter what other roles I hold in this world, I am always a mother first.

And this morning I woke up heavy.

The Grief Mothers Carry Across the World

There are little girls who left for school and never came home. An occurrence that should never happen, yet is repeated. There are mothers waiting for sons and daughters who may never return from war. There are children who will grow up without the parents who once held them. Every life lost is someone’s child.

Across oceans and across languages I can imagine the sound a mother makes when she realizes her child is gone. I can imagine that same sound from mothers here at home who fear for their children’s safety.

Grief like that needs no translation.

I struggle to understand how humans reach a place where violence becomes acceptable. Even the smallest forms of harm make me pause, so the loss of human life, any human life, feels unbearable to me.

When the World Feels Heavy and We Feel Powerless

I hear people say thoughts and prayers, and I know that is often a reaction to feeling powerless.

I feel powerless too.

And if I am honest, I am angry.

I feel anger toward the leaders and systems that move the world closer to violence instead of healing. I feel anger when human life begins to feel expendable in public conversations.

Part of me wants to shout that the people making these decisions should have to face the consequences themselves.

And another part of me remembers that every soldier, every child, every person caught in conflict is still someone’s child. Still innocent. Still loved by a mother somewhere.

Holding those two truths at the same time is painful.

The Connection Between Love, Anger, and Compassion

The anger I feel is real, but underneath it is something deeper.

Because hate is not the opposite of love.

Hate is the shadow side of love.

You only feel that kind of anger when something you love deeply feels threatened.

And what I love is life.
Children.
Families.
The fragile miracle that any of us are here at all.

Choosing Compassion in a World That Feels Heavy

Feeling grief for the world does not mean something is wrong with you; often it means your compassion is still very much alive. So I refuse to add more hatred to a world that already has too much of it.

Instead, I will do what I can.

I will do my best to help heal the people who sit across from me in my therapy room. I will raise my children to be compassionate humans. I will keep choosing love even on the days when anger would be easier.

I cannot change the entire world.

But I can care deeply for the small corner of it that is mine.

Today I grieve for mothers everywhere. The mothers across the ocean whose language I will never speak. The mothers here at home worried about their own children. The mothers who will wake up tomorrow and ask themselves what they did wrong.

Grief needs no translation.

Because when you are a mother, every child feels a little bit like your own.

The grief I feel today is the shadow of my compassion. It is what compassion looks like when it runs into a world that still chooses violence.

If I did not care so deeply about life, about children, about families, I would not feel this pain.

So I will not try to silence it.

I will let it remind me why compassion matters.

Maybe my small voice will not change the world.

But maybe it adds one small kernel of compassion to it.

And maybe, just maybe, that still matters.

I will honor that my vulnerability, my compassion, and my love are my strength.

If This Resonates With You

This reflection may resonate with you if:

• You feel overwhelmed or heartbroken when you hear about suffering in the world
• You are a highly sensitive or deeply compassionate person
• World events sometimes leave you feeling powerless or heavy
• You care deeply about humanity but struggle with how to hold that compassion without becoming overwhelmed
• You are trying to raise children with empathy and kindness in a complicated world

Feeling deeply is not a weakness. Often, it is a reflection of your capacity for compassion.

Questions People Often Ask When the World Feels Heavy

Why do world events affect me so strongly?
Many highly sensitive or empathetic people feel the suffering of others deeply. Hearing about tragedy, violence, or injustice can activate grief, fear, and compassion all at once.

Is it normal to feel both anger and compassion at the same time?
Yes. Anger often emerges when something we deeply love feels threatened. It is possible to hold anger and compassion together without letting anger turn into hatred.

How can I care about the world without becoming overwhelmed?
One way is to focus on the areas where you do have influence—your family, your community, your relationships. Compassion becomes sustainable when we channel it into meaningful action within our own sphere.

Can therapy help if the world feels emotionally overwhelming?
Yes. Therapy can help highly sensitive and compassionate people learn how to hold grief, anger, and empathy without becoming emotionally depleted.

Burnout in Highly Sensitive Women: Motherhood, Homeschooling, and Learning to Choose Less

Burnout often shows up differently in highly sensitive or neurodivergent women, especially during seasons like motherhood and homeschooling.

Burnout: My Journey to Less

Burnout is real (even when your life looks good on paper)

Burnout can show up differently in highly sensitive and neurodivergent women, especially during seasons of motherhood and when you have school aged children, especially if you decide to homeschool. What looked like anxiety or exhaustion in my life was actually a nervous system asking for a different pace, a different rhythm, and a different way of living. It took me years to realize that what I thought was anxiety or depression was actually burnout in a highly sensitive nervous system.

Burnout often looks different in highly sensitive or neurodivergent women. Instead of obvious collapse, it can look like constant exhaustion, frequent illness, feeling overwhelmed by everyday tasks, or wondering why everyone else seems able to handle more. Many women who later discover they are highly sensitive, ADHD, autistic, or AuDHD spend years believing they are simply “too much” or “not resilient enough,” when in reality their nervous systems are processing far more than most people realize

Why this matters: Burnout is real, and when you throw motherhood into the mix, it’s a whole new level of chaos. Let me take you on my journey through it. 😅

It all started after grad school, just after I’d bought a house and thought I was doing everything *right.* I went to my doctor, (who was used to seeing me every few weeks because I was constantly sick. I didn’t realize at the time my body was trying to tell me to rest, take it down a notch. I blamed it on a bad immune system and working with kids.) Anyway, there I was, sitting in my doctor’s office, tears streaming down my face. He asked, “What’s wrong?” and all I could say was, “I don’t know! Everything in my life is good—I just graduated, bought a house, life is great.” He looked at me, nodded, and reached for his prescription pad, saying,”You don’t have to feel this way, I can help.” Desperate, I nodded in agreement.

When Burnout looks like anxiety or depression

The meds helped… for a while. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t just depression, it wasn’t just anxiety. I didn’t know what it was at the time, I just knew that getting through the day was a task. I worked, and slept. 🙃 I had drained my energy reserves trying to juggle grad school, two jobs, and all the demands life threw at me. My plate was way too full, and I had no idea how to pace myself.

I mean, you’d think being a therapist, I’d understand burnout, right? But nope—I was too busy trying to be Do The Things… and wondering why I kept crashing into walls. It turns out that knowing all the theory doesn’t help when you’re busy ignoring the giant flashing “Warning: You’re Burning Out!” signs in your own life. 🤦‍♀️

Learning that Self-Care is more than bubble baths

Eventually, I did what any overwhelmed human would do—I started taking things off my plate. *Fast.* I learned to set boundaries and redefine self-care. And spoiler alert: self-care is way more than bubble baths and eating healthy. 🛁🌿 I needed real rest—more sleep, time to play, and moments to just *be.* I needed fewer commitments, fewer expectations, and more time outdoors.

Motherhood and the Return of Overwhelm

Gradually, I got better. And then… I became a mom. 👶 Just like that, the to-do lists multiplied overnight. The self-care strategies that had worked so well before? Out the window. Now, it was crying babies, endless time commitments, and the exhaustion of keeping a tiny humans alive while trying to survive myself. The overwhelm was back, and I had to adjust—again.

So, I shifted gears. Soulful art became finger painting in the bathtub. 🎨 My quiet time morphed from Enya and candles to cuddles and Baby Mozart. 🍼 Priorities changed. The clean house? Less important. Being present? The new goal. I found moments where I could sink my feet into the grass while keeping my toddlers contained. I adjusted, and it worked… for a while.

But as my kids grew, so did the commitments—extracurriculars, school, work deadlines. It was all *too much.* And in the midst of this chaos, I decided to open my own business. This may seem counter-intuitive but I was tired. My thought was if I am dumping all this time into someone else’s vision, why not do it for myself, my way. I needed more control, I needed to do things on my terms. This was a game-changer, giving me a chance to create a schedule that worked for me, to slow down the grind while still supporting my family.

Discovering I was a Highly Sensitive Person and why burnout suddenly made sense

Then, by chance, by happenstance, through synchronicty, I am not sure how I got there honestly, but I came across the term Highly Sensitive by Elaine Aron. Insert deep dive here, and I realized I was highly sensitive. Trying to keep up with “normies” (no offense, normies, I love you) was just not in the cards for me. I couldn't compare my schedule to others. I had to accept that I was wired differently, that my energy had limits, and that burning myself out trying to meet everyone else's expectations was never going to work. I needed to play by my own rules.

But burnout? It’s a sneaky beast. Some mornings, even getting out of bed felt impossible. Staying awake past my kids’ bedtime? Forget about it. I often fell asleep moments after tucking them in, sometimes even in their beds. If I tried pushing past and staying up late, my body reminded me to rest by getting sick and forcing me back to bed.

My self-care was pretty good. Monthly acupuncture, Check. Good sleep, Check. Eating healthy, Check. Leaning into others, still a struggle. Making sure I set boundaries, Check. However, the drowning feeling was still there. I was managing, but not living fully.

The Unexpected Nervous System Reset

Then came COVID. Our lives, like everyone else’s, turned upside down. The kids came home, and I shifted to doing virtual therapy. I closed my physical office—a space I had poured my heart into creating—and with a heavy heart, I re-evaluated *everything.* When the next school year came, I decided to homeschool. It started as a practical decision because of the pandemic, but it turned out to be an unexpected gift. 🌟

Gone were the daily battles over time, the morning rushes, the “GET YOUR SHOES ON NOW!” meltdowns. We traded those for schoolwork done in pajamas, laundry tossed in between clients, and well-rested kids who no longer had to face after-school homework wars.

For my family, the pandemic, despite all its hardships, actually reduced our stress. And as the world started to return to “normal,” I realized I didn't want to go back. I didn't want the chaos, the frantic pace, the burnout.

Choosing a Slower Life

So, we chose *less*. Not as some radical act of rebellion, but as a conscious choice for calm and sanity. In all that hustle, I hadn't even realized my boys were feeling burned out too. Most of our conflicts came from being bone-tired or being hungry and not being able to get food on the table fast enough. We were done with the fast-paced, on-demand lifestyle. We needed a slower rhythm, more time to recover. ❤️

Now, four years into homeschooling, we sleep more than most families. We have less structure. We have one or two activities, and social events are maybe once a week. Our house? Still not always clean. Often, we're home together but each in our own space, doing our own thing. Our time still includes cuddles on the couch, game nights, and things that are slower paced.

Like all moms, I worry whether I'm doing things right. Will my kids be stereotyped as "awkward homeschoolers"? Am I harming them by not making their childhood more demanding? Honestly, I don't have the answers to those questions yet. What I do know is that I've been able to preserve my sanity. I don't fight with my kids as much, and our time as a family is peaceful. Maybe I can send them into the world without their nervous systems being on fire, without starting adulthood already burned out. If that's the case, I'll take the awkwardness. 🙂

Many of the women I work with are highly sensitive, neurodivergent, creative, or homeschooling parents who have spent years trying to function at a pace that simply doesn’t fit their nervous system. Therapy can help you understand your wiring, reduce burnout, and build a life that supports your energy instead of constantly draining it.

By choosing less, I found more—more time, more peace, more connection. Maybe you can too! Sometimes, the best decision is the one that lets you just *breathe*.

If this story resonates with you it could be because…

• You’re a highly sensitive woman who feels overwhelmed by the pace of modern life
• You suspect you may be neurodivergent (ADHD, autistic, or AuDHD) but were never recognized growing up
• You’re a thoughtful, creative, or intuitive person who absorbs the emotions and needs of everyone around you
• You’re a homeschooling or alternative-education parent trying to create a calmer life for your family
• You’re capable, insightful, and responsible… but constantly exhausted

If you think you are ready to start therapy, schedule a free consult.

Questions Highly Sensitive and Neurodivergent Women Often Ask

Why do highly sensitive women burn out more easily?
Highly sensitive nervous systems process more emotional and sensory input, which can lead to faster exhaustion when life becomes overwhelming.

Can burnout look like anxiety or depression?
Yes. Burnout can show up as exhaustion, irritability, frequent illness, emotional overwhelm, or feeling like even simple tasks require enormous effort.

Can therapy help highly sensitive or neurodivergent women with burnout?
Therapy can help you understand how your nervous system works, develop boundaries that protect your energy, and create a life rhythm that supports rather than overwhelms you.

With love and healing,

Laura 💖