A lifetime of guilt

A lifetime of guilt. 

That’s what the lady with grey curly hair at the supermarket checkout warned me. My son was a few weeks old, curled up peacefully in the carrier on my chest. 

In the beginning, I thought guilt was simply part of being a good mother, a good woman. Something that proved I cared. Something that made me good and attentive and worthy of love. 

But slowly I began to notice how it arrived even when I had not strayed from my values. How it arose when I rested, when I ate, when I cried, when I said no to something so I could protect my energy for what mattered most. 

It’s taken me a while to reject the internalised voice that says, 

If I choose myself, I am harming someone else. 

As if my needs, the needs that make me most human and alive – rest, sleep, food, support, space, silence – are somehow wrong. 

I have learned that I do not need to apologise for living in a body that aches and hungers and tires. I do not need to justify the quiet, unproductive hours. I do not need to prove that I am allowed to be here. 

Little by little, I have waded through the rules I was taught, unlearning them, again and again. 

Always put others first. Never prioritise your needs. Never take up too much space. 

Always keep going. Never stop when there is more to do. Never rest while others are still working. 

Always hold it all together. Never need too much. Never rely too heavily on other people. 

Always stay strong. Never be too emotional. Never fall apart. 

And I wonder how many women are still following these rules, weighed down by a lifetime of guilt.   

Guilt for resting. Guilt for saying no. Guilt for disappointing people. Guilt for wanting more time, more space, more joy than they feel allowed to claim. 

But guilt does not always tell the truth. 

Sometimes it’s simply an old survival strategy. A way our nervous systems learned to avoid criticism, to be seen as good and nice and worthy. Sometimes it simply means we are beginning to live slightly differently than we were taught. Sometimes, it means we are outgrowing the version of ourselves that has spent so long in survival mode, that we are freeing ourselves, that we are becoming ourselves. 

I know when I need to prioritise rest because the guilt resurfaces, popping up in moments of vulnerability and imperfection, when I am my most human. 

I don’t think we can eliminate it entirely. But we can pause and ask, 

Have I actually done something wrong here? Or have I simply done something unfamiliar? 

Did I go against my own values? Or have I simply gone against an inherited rule? 

Am I actually out of alignment with what matters to me? Or am I simply out of alignment with who other people want me to be? 

Over the last couple of years, guilt has become part of the deeper work I’ve been exploring inside Becoming The Relaxed Woman – one of the patterns so many of us become trapped within: urgency, self-sacrifice, perfectionism, busyness, self-criticism, false guilt. 

Becoming The Relaxed Woman is a space for women who are tired of living with constant self-pressure and are longing for a calmer, more compassionate way of living. 

If this reflection resonated with you, you can explore Becoming The Relaxed Woman here. 

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