Why do I cry in the shower?

Question from Aimee L., 34, Portland, Oregon. Mama to 4-month-old baby Max.

Aimee is a first-time mom navigating postpartum anxiety and sleep deprivation. Most days she’s alone with the baby from morning to night because her partner works two jobs. She hasn’t had time to process how much her life has changed, and the shower has become the only place she feels safe enough to let the tears out.

Mama,

I used to think something was wrong with me.
The way my chest would tighten the moment the water turned on.
The way I’d press my forehead to the tile, just to feel something other than everything
I was holding in.

The truth?
The shower was the only place I felt truly alone. No babies needing me.
No one expecting me to be okay.
Just steam, and silence, and the sound of my own quiet unraveling.

It’s where the exhaustion caught up to me.
Where the guilt spilled over.
Where the mental load finally had nowhere else to go.

I cried in the shower because it was the only time I didn’t have to pretend.
The only place I didn’t feel watched or judged.
Where I could grieve the parts of me that felt lost — and whisper the things I couldn’t say out loud:

“I’m so tired.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I miss my old self.”
“I love my babies, but I feel so alone.”

If this is you, mama —you are not broken. You are not weak. You are human.

Crying in the shower doesn't mean you don’t love your baby.
It means you're carrying a weight no one else can fully see.

This is emotional release in motherhood.
This is what postpartum overwhelm can look like.
This is the side of motherhood that doesn’t make it into Instagram captions.

But here’s what I want you to know:
You’re not supposed to carry all of this alone.
You deserve rest, support, and space to feel.

And even if the tears come faster than the water, they’re not a sign of failure.
They’re a sign you’re feeling.
You’re still you under it all.
Tender. Real. Deserving of care.

With love from my own shower floor,
Lina P.