Solo Episode - Unequal Division of Household Labor
Transcript
Hey Experience Makers. I’m so glad you’re here, though I know you didn’t come here lightly. I know that right now, you’re probably feeling overwhelmed. You’re probably exhausted, wondering if you’ll ever catch a break. And deep down, there’s a part of you that’s quietly aching because you’re doing it all. And no one seems to notice. No one seems to see just how much you’re carrying—how much you’re holding together. You’re putting in so much effort, but it feels like no matter how much you give, it’s never enough.
This episode is for you. It’s for the woman who is quietly suffering under the weight of an unequal division of household labor. You’re juggling a million things—working, raising kids, managing the home, running errands, keeping everyone happy—and yet, you’re still somehow expected to do it all on your own. And at the same time, your partner seems... oblivious. Not because they want to be, but because they just don’t see it. And it’s crushing you.
So let’s slow down for a minute, okay? I want you to take a deep breath. Close your eyes, if you can, and just feel this moment. Because I want you to hear me when I say this: I see you. I feel your exhaustion. I feel the weight of your heart as you try to balance everything, to keep your life running smoothly, when in truth, you’re drowning. And I need you to understand—this isn’t just about the laundry piling up or the dishes left in the sink. It’s about the emotional and mental load that no one seems to recognize. It’s about the quiet, invisible burden you carry every single day.
It starts small, doesn’t it? At first, you tell yourself it’s okay. You’ve got it. You’ll just take care of the chores today. You don’t want to bother anyone. But then, day after day, it keeps building. You do the dishes, you fold the laundry, you clean the house, you make sure the kids have everything they need. And somewhere along the way, you start feeling like you’re living in a never-ending loop of tasks. You don’t get a break. You don’t get to stop. And when you do, the pile of things you still have to do just seems to grow taller.
You ask for help here and there, but it feels like you’re met with resistance. Maybe it’s not that your partner doesn’t want to help—it’s more like they don’t see it. They don’t see the weight of it. They don’t see that it’s not just about doing the dishes, it’s about managing the entire household. They don’t realize that it’s not just about picking up the groceries, it’s about coordinating everyone’s schedules, remembering appointments, keeping track of the kids’ needs, and doing it all while still making sure you’re emotionally present for everyone in your life.
It’s exhausting. And what makes it worse is that no one seems to notice. No one seems to realize how much you’re doing. Your partner may think that because you’re handling it all, that it’s fine. They may think you have it under control, but the truth is, you’re overwhelmed. You’re drowning in the mental load. And you’re carrying the emotional weight of keeping it all together. You feel like you’re invisible, like no one sees how hard you’re working to hold everything up.
And what happens when you ask for help? When you speak up, hoping that your partner will understand the emotional weight you’re carrying? Sometimes, it feels like your request is met with a shrug. Or maybe a promise to “get to it later,” but later never comes. And the worst part is, you start to question yourself. Am I asking too much? _Am I overreacting?_But deep down, you know that you’re not. You know that you’re being asked to do more than anyone should, to the point where your emotional and physical reserves are depleted. And it feels like you’re living for everyone else—except yourself.
Maybe you’ve tried to talk to your partner about how you’re feeling. Maybe you’ve even laid it all out in front of them—explained how unfair it feels, how tired you are. But when nothing changes, that’s when the frustration sets in. That’s when the resentment builds. And what hurts the most is that, at the end of the day, it doesn’t feel like they understand just how much you’re carrying. It doesn’t feel like they get that this isn’t just about a clean house or organized schedules. It’s about your well-being. It’s about your mental health. It’s about you not wanting to feel like a maid in your own home, even though you’re putting in the work of ten people.
You want to feel like you matter. You want to feel like you’re not invisible. You want to feel like someone sees the effort you’re putting in, not just the outcome. But instead, you feel like you’re running a marathon without a finish line, without any acknowledgment of how far you’ve come.
And in the quiet moments, when you’re left alone with your thoughts, you start to wonder: Why is it like this? Why does it feel like you’re always the one doing it all? Why does it feel like your partner can just carry on with their day, without the same weight on their shoulders? You love them, of course you do. But this doesn’t feel fair. It doesn’t feel right. And it leaves you feeling like there’s no room for you—no space for your own needs, your own time, your own life.
You wonder if they see how much it hurts to carry everything on your own. To manage every part of the household, every emotion, every need, and still find a way to keep the relationship together. And yet, somehow, it still feels like you’re invisible. Like you’re a worker bee, buzzing around, making sure everything runs smoothly, while your partner seems to just... exist.
And maybe you’ve tried to ask for help, or maybe you’ve let it build up and stayed silent, but the truth is, that silence starts to erode you. It chips away at your spirit. It wears down your sense of self. And it builds up resentment. You don’t want to feel resentful, you don’t want to feel angry, but you do. Because it’s not just the division of labor that’s unfair—it’s the emotional toll that it takes. It’s the invisible load that you’re carrying. And it’s exhausting.
There’s this quiet pain that comes with all of this. The pain of feeling like you have to do it all alone. The pain of not being seen, even though you’re giving so much. And you keep giving, because you love your family. You love your partner. But you also need to feel seen. You need to feel that your contributions are recognized. And when that doesn’t happen, when it feels like no one notices the emotional labor, no one notices the mental load, it hurts.
I want to say this as gently as I can, love: You are not just the caretaker, the organizer, the homemaker. You are not just the person who keeps things running. You are a person, too. You are deserving of rest. You are deserving of time. You are deserving of someone who sees you, who understands the toll it takes to be everything for everyone, without the space to be just you.
It’s okay to feel frustrated. It’s okay to feel angry. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed and tired. Your feelings are valid. They are real. And you deserve to be heard. You deserve to be recognized. Because, love, you are doing so much. You are carrying a weight that isn’t yours to carry alone, and I want you to know that your feelings, your struggles, are valid. You deserve to be seen. You deserve to be seen for all of the work you do, for the emotional labor, for the mental load, for the love you pour into your home and your relationship.
And even when it feels like you’re invisible, even when it feels like your efforts are going unnoticed, I want you to know: You are not invisible. You are seen. You are valued. And you are loved.
Thank you for being here. For showing up for yourself, for allowing yourself to feel all of this. Remember, you are never truly alone in this. I’m here with you. You are loved, you are seen, and you are doing more than enough.
Take care of yourself, love. You deserve it. Always.