Libby Ward on mom rage, the myth of the ideal mother, and why honesty is the first step toward healing

Libby Ward built a following of millions by saying the quiet parts out loud — the rage, the resentment, the crushing weight of trying to be everything at once. As @diaryofanhonestmom, she became a voice for burned-out mothers everywhere. But somewhere along the way, she realized the most important person she needed to be honest with wasn’t her followers. It was herself.

Now a bestselling author and speaker, Libby has rebranded — to her own name — and released her debut memoir, Honest Motherhood: On Losing My Mind and Finding Myself. In it, she traces her path from a turbulent childhood through postpartum depression, mom rage, a late ADHD diagnosis, and a slow, nonlinear climb toward becoming a person she actually recognizes. On The Motherly Podcast, Libby sat down with host Liz Tenety to talk about the myth of the perfect mother, why honesty isn’t a “woo” idea, and what it means to finally stop performing motherhood and start living it.

Meet the expert:

Libby Ward is a mental health advocate, speaker, and bestselling author of Honest Motherhood: On Losing My Mind and Finding Myself. She built her platform as @diaryofanhonestmom, where her candid takes on burnout, cycle-breaking, and the invisible load of motherhood resonated with millions. She has since rebranded under her own name, expanding her work beyond motherhood to speak to anyone navigating the hard, nonlinear work of healing and becoming more fully themselves. She lives in Canada with her husband and two children.

Liz Tenety: You didn’t set out to write a memoir. What changed?

Libby Ward: I started from a place of wanting to write a social exposition on motherhood — what I’d observed, what the research said, what millions of moms had shared with me. But the more I wrote, the more the people around me kept saying, ‘Your stories are incredible. You need to tell more of your own story.’ And when I compared how long it took me to write a page of data versus how long it took me to write from my own experience, there was just this sense of freedom. I was like, ‘Oh, okay. I will write my story.’ It didn’t feel like a choice I made so much as the thing it was always meant to be.

Liz: You talk about wanting to heal for your kids — and then discovering you should have always been your own reason. What shifted?

Libby: When motherhood broke me and I finally went to therapy, I did it because I wanted to be a better mom. I wanted to show up more regulated, more present — I wanted to heal for the sake of my kids. What I discovered in writing the book is that I should have always been my own reason. I always deserved to listen to my inside voice, to care about my own needs, to treat myself as someone who mattered — not just because I was a mom, but because I was a person. Motherhood is actually what showed me I was never really that person to begin with.

Liz: Can you take us through some of the pivotal moments that woke you up to what you were carrying?

Libby: The first time I was honest with myself that I wasn’t okay — I had a two-year-old and a six-month-old, and I’d been running myself ragged volunteering, moving, caring for a high-needs baby. Late one night I came home and opened the back of my SUV and a bunch of shoeboxes I’d packed for a charity event tumbled out, contents everywhere. I was on the ground in the cold trying to repack them, and I just thought: this is me. I have this shiny facade. Everyone thinks I’ve got it together. But I am absolutely shattered inside.

And then there was the morning in the car. I had a three-year-old and a five-year-old, my husband had worked all night, I was on my own trying to get everyone out the door. My son — who had speech delays and couldn’t tell me what he needed — was crying. My daughter was kicking my seat. I slammed on the brakes and I just screamed. That guttural rage. And when I came down from it, I saw fear on their faces. A fear I’d never seen directed at me before. The shame just washed over me. Everything I’d been holding in came flooding out. I realized I’d put so much energy into keeping things perfect that I had no capacity left for anything. And I had to get really honest about what kind of mom I actually wanted to be.

Liz: You talk about ‘the myth of the ideal mother.’ What does that mean to you, and why is it so damaging?

Libby: It’s called a myth because it’s literally not possible. Think about the expectations we’re given that completely contradict each other — be patient and kind always, but also make sure your kids are perfectly behaved. Breastfeed your baby, but go back to work after two months. Be your kids’ playmate, be the household manager, cook, clean, plan everything, smile while you do it. There’s only so much time in a day. And mothers today are getting more information, at a higher velocity, from more conflicting sources, than any generation before. Our brains were never meant to process this much while also carrying everything. The reason it feels hard is because it actually is hard.

 What I tell moms is: the sooner we realize none of us can actually do it all, the sooner we can give ourselves permission to let some of it go. And also — the reason so many of us take on these impossible expectations as fact is because we never learned to trust ourselves. When disappointing people feels like a life-or-death situation, you start scanning the room asking, ‘What do I need to be? What does a good mom look like?’ You’re the only one with the information about your own life — your support system, your sleep, your kids’ needs, your nervous system. Nobody else has that. And that’s where the real work begins.

Liz: How does honesty actually help? What does that look like in practice?

Libby: I think honesty can feel like this big woo idea — ‘just be honest with yourself’ — and it’s like, okay, but how does that help me tonight when my kid is losing it at bedtime? But it’s actually really granular. It’s the practice of just stopping yourself in the moment and telling yourself the truth. Your kid is screaming at the front door. What is true? I feel triggered. What else is true? There isn’t actually a lion chasing me. What else is true? My kid is dysregulated, and now I am too. What else can I do? I can plug my ears, close my eyes, take a breath.

The same thing applies in the morning with a journal. What’s actually on my list? How did I sleep? What am I feeling? When you see everything laid out, it becomes possible to ask: what can move? What can I do a worse job at and still be okay? Where can I ask for help? It doesn’t have to be a big overnight transformation. It’s just: in this moment, what is actually true?

Liz: You also got an adult ADHD diagnosis. What was that like?

Libby: I had no idea I could possibly have ADHD. All I knew about it was that it was something little boys in school had. I’d even worked as an educational assistant with kids with ADHD — I was the person who helped them block their work and take walk breaks — and still didn’t recognize it in myself. It wasn’t until I started seeing content online that I slowly got less skeptical. I saw a psychiatrist, she asked me her questions, and before she told me the result, she basically said, ‘How have you made it until now?’ That was how clear it was.

It was hard, and then it was freeing. It gave me so much more compassion for myself. The everyday monotony of motherhood is genuinely harder for my brain. That’s just the truth of how I’m wired. And naming it changed everything.

Liz: You rebranded from @diaryofanhonestmom to just your name. Why?

Libby: I woke up one day and I was like, ‘I will die if I have to talk about motherhood for the rest of my life.’ Not because I don’t care — I care deeply. But there are other parts of me that were starting to grow, other conversations I wanted to have. And it started to feel inauthentic to force myself into only one lane when the whole thing I was telling moms was that they are more than just a mom. I can’t be the person who says ‘you deserve to be your full self’ while I’m standing inside a box. So I changed everything to my name. Maybe it wasn’t strategic to do it right before the book. But I was like — if my whole thing is about being authentic, this is the most authentic thing I can do.

I feel like I’m standing on top of the box now. Most of my content is still about motherhood, but I have the freedom to go wherever I want. And I want moms to know that’s available to them too. We’re allowed to be more than one thing.

Liz: What do you hope readers take away from Honest Motherhood?

Libby: I want them to feel less alone — that’s the biggest thing I hear back. But I also want moms to walk away knowing that change is possible. It doesn’t have to feel like this forever. This isn’t just motherhood. You don’t have to be burned out and exhausted and full of rage indefinitely. My path was not linear. It’s not a five-step plan. It’s a messy, real story of someone who went through some things and slowly found her way. And if I can get there, it’s possible for you too.

The answers you’re looking for are already inside you. They’re not in a self-help book. They’re not from your favorite influencer. You actually have what you need. You just have to start telling yourself the truth.

This article has been edited and condensed for clarity. Listen to the full episode of The Motherly Podcast wherever you get your podcasts.

source https://www.mother.ly/podcasts/the-motherly-podcast/libby-ward-the-motherly-podcast/