Part 1: The Need I Didn’t Realize I Had

How losing ALL my alone time caused me to lose myself in motherhood as a highly sensitive stay-at-home mom

I’ve always been a loner. It’s not that I don’t like people or have friends; in fact, I’ve mostly been able to fit in and make friends no matter where I am. It’s just that after a while, I much prefer to be by myself. I need that quiet time to recharge and exhale. 

I grew up in a large family, and I can vividly remember, even from a young age, always finding quiet moments to be alone. Lying under the Christmas tree watching the lights change colors. Walking through the woods behind our house and playing in the creek. Dancing alone to a song I played on repeat. Coming home from school and disappearing into my room to unwind. I didn’t even realize I was doing it, but I was intuitively meeting this need I’ve had all along

Then, as a young adult, I often found ways to be alone and be perfectly content while my peers were busy partying or going out in big groups. I enjoyed activities like sitting in a coffee shop and reading, going on solo shopping trips, taking long walks to contemplate life, and working jobs that offered a lot of autonomy. But I don’t think anyone, even myself, knew just how much I truly needed that time.

Once I became a mom and was on maternity leave, I noticed I started to feel a little off. But I returned to work and found those pockets of time alone again in things like the drive to work after daycare drop-off, sitting in my car eating alone during my lunch, and going for a solo walk around the building during a break. 

When my second son was born and I decided that staying home was best for our family, I didn’t even think about the fact that my alone time would essentially disappear. Instead of finding quiet pockets of solitude, I was constantly "on." The full-time caregiving and exposure to relentless sensory input, with little to no breaks, felt overwhelming. And my mental, physical, and emotional health paid the price.

It wasn’t until I finally cracked and admitted that I needed this time and found myself sitting alone in a Panera booth that I realized just how depleted and overwhelmed I was. I had no space to process my life. No space to exist without worrying about meeting everyone else's needs or expectations. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my kids or my spouse; it’s that I felt like I was disappearing. I felt like a ghost of who I used to be.

In the months that followed, I very imperfectly asked or was forced to get away for a few hours. Oftentimes, it wasn’t until I realized how irritated I had become, or conversely, how checked out I was, that I realized I had pushed past my limit. I had gone too long without meeting my own needs. Because they felt like too much to ask for. I felt bad asking for time to myself…it felt selfish. And I was afraid of how that would look to my husband or other people who didn’t have the same needs. 

But what I know is that every single time I got away, I came back recharged. Not a different person, just a better version of myself. I would go somewhere quiet and sit, journal, pray, process, and feel…and then I could come home and be present again. I was able to think more clearly and had a sense of direction again.

And I wonder how many other highly sensitive moms, especially overwhelmed stay-at-home moms, are quietly carrying this guilt about having needs that look different. How many women are just surviving their lives and pushing through without coming up for air? 

Looking back now, it seems obvious. All of those quiet moments from childhood and young adulthood weren't random. They were how I regulated myself. I didn't know I was highly sensitive at the time, and I certainly didn't understand what happened to me when I went too long without time alone. I just knew that eventually I would become irritable, exhausted, overwhelmed, or numb.

It wasn't until motherhood that I started connecting the dots. The quiet moments and alone time I always gravitated toward weren't a luxury; they were a need. As a highly sensitive person, I absorb a lot. I notice a lot. I feel a lot. And without space to process all of that, it builds up until I no longer feel like myself.

But when you're a mom, especially a highly sensitive stay-at-home mom, you don't always have the luxury or the ability to get that alone time. You’re constantly needed, constantly mentally carrying things, planning, anticipating, and caring for others. And it can feel really awkward and strange to ask for something you maybe don’t even realize you need. 

Even if you know you need alone time, how do you ask for it? How do you explain it? Do you have to explain it? Will other people think you’re weird or too much? All of these thoughts make the asking even harder. So we wait, we push through, we don’t ask. And then we suffer, and we stop showing up as the person we truly are. 

I’m not perfect at asking for alone time or any other need for that matter. But I’m starting to realize just how essential that need for alone time is for me. And in the times that I ask and take that time for myself, my family, and my mental health benefit in ways I can’t always explain. All I know is that I come back feeling like I can breathe again. I can give again. I can be present. 

But the harder part is that this need isn’t just a one-time thing. And that’s the part I’m still working on. Learning how to make my own needs a priority without having to overexplain or feel bad for having needs that are different than those around me. Learning to keep my needs on the schedule while also helping meet the needs of my family. It’s a true balancing act. 

If you’re a highly sensitive mom who is struggling, I wonder… when was the last time you took time to meet your own needs? Especially the need for alone time. It can feel so counterintuitive and selfish, especially when motherhood burnout and sensory overload have become your normal. It can make you feel self-conscious to ask for it, particularly if you’re someone who struggles with boundaries and people-pleasing. 

If that’s you, I want you to know I completely get it. I also know that it’s because of your sensitivity that you have so much to offer this world, especially your family. But you can't continue giving from an empty place forever. This is the part that I'm still learning for myself, and it’s why I’m so passionate about bringing awareness and support for moms who resonate with what I’m sharing.

I hope you find solidarity in knowing you’re not alone. And if this is something you want support with, I would love to walk alongside you and help you start prioritizing yourself again. 

For years, I thought there was something wrong with me because I needed so much time alone. Now I'm beginning to wonder if God wasn't trying to tell me something all along. In Part 2, I'll share what happened when I realized that alone time wasn't my only unmet need.