Without mum judgement, there would be no mum guilt.

And the worst part? A lot of it comes from each other.

Years ago, I read a book by Gabby Bernstein called “The Judgement Detox”. In fact, I didn’t even finish it because I got the idea and just started implementing (Did I tell you I’m impatient? And also a book editor who cuts out the “fluff”).

The gist was simple: judging someone can feel good. That delicious, self-righteous buzz of a good gossip/bitch. But it’s your ego in the driving seat. The ego that needs to feel big by making someone else small.

When the ego’s in charge, you cut yourself off from connection, compassion, all those warm fuzzies we actually crave. It’s an either-or. You can’t come from your heart and your ego. Sorry if I’m simplifying, Gabby.

So I decided: I want to be the person who sees the good, who gives the benefit of the doubt, who puts herself in other people’s shoes. Who tries to learn something from everyone she meets.

Because let’s be honest, even when you join in, it leaves a nasty aftertaste. Bitter.

But it’s not like I just switched it off one day. It’s a practice. I started by noticing when my thoughts and talk got judgy and chose to be compassionate instead. This is actually really hard, but worth it.

Pram = Target

Then I became a mum. And all the normal rules of decency disappeared.

I’ve been judged online by Daily Mail trolls.
In the park.
Pushing the pram.
At the bus stop.
You name it.

Having a pram makes you a sanctioned target, and I’ve got a really big pram, I’m a big target.

(I look shattered in this picture as it’s when the triplets were less than 2 months old! That same pram is now 75kgs with the triplets in. Yes, I’m seeing a physio…)

In my previous life as a female entrepreneur, it’s unthinkable that people on the street would give me a spot appraisal and tell me all the things I’m doing wrong.

The worst comment I ever got?

“I get postnatal depression just looking at you.”

She said it as my triplets giggled their way to the playground with their grandad.

If that’s what she thought on seeing a happy moment, God only knows what she’d think if she saw a tantrum, or what it’s like getting everyone out the door for 8am.

I laughed it off in that funny-not-funny way.

But it lingers. It’s what you think about at 3 a.m. after finally settling a little one.

Because here’s the truth: judgement is the breeding ground for mum guilt.
Every time someone criticises or side-eyes a mum, it plants a seed.
And when we’re tired or stretched thin, those seeds take root. We start to believe those voices.

There are so many external expectations on mums. And we can never meet them all.

So when someone judges us, especially another mum, it hits a nerve that’s already raw.
We take those comments home.
We replay them.
And slowly, those external voices become internal ones.
That’s how mum guilt grows.

Why It Hurts So Much

One mum recently commented here, saying she felt judged for going to the gym.
I’ve had those, “Oh, it must be nice for you…” comments too about prioritising my wellbeing.

One troll even wrote: “I’d say you’re neglecting your children”.

To be clear, I left my babies with an excellent nanny, not fending for themselves.

But this is what happens when compassion is replaced by comparison.

The thought process goes something like this:

“She’s doing something I’d like to but haven’t… so either 1) She’s got it lucky, or 2) I need to rethink my priorities.
I’ll go with the first option.”

Choose compassion not comparison

The third step of breaking up with mum guilt is choosing compassion over comparison. When I came up with this, I meant internally – showing yourself compassion and not comparing yourself to others. But I’ve actually realised it’s external too.

Show all mums compassion. Assume they are doing their best. Remember you don’t know what sh!t is on their plate at the moment or how little sleep they’ve had.

Choose compassion for all of us.

Please.

Much love,

Leila x

ps. What’s the worst comment you’ve had? Do you have any tips on how to handle them?