“I’m Thinking About Quitting.”

“I’m thinking about quitting.”

I told a friend this during a daily spiral about whether I should keep selling my brand merch. I’d been here before. By this point, I’d asked some version of “is it time to stop” every other day, sometimes multiple times a day, over the last five weeks since I made a store for my social movement, Free Black Motherhood. I knew there was nothing she could say that I hadn’t already ruminated on before the words left my lips.

My lingering uncertainty wasn’t because things weren’t selling. I’d made 25 sales in four weeks, and while modest for some, it was a big deal to me. It also wasn’t a lack of pride in what I was offering. My logo was minimalist, yet cute. The price point felt accessible and lower than that of many comparable brands. Still, despite so many“rights,” something was wrong. My inner voice kept saying that this isn’t sustainable.

My desire to make my merchandise financially accessible was valid and noble. But in the American financial system, everything has a cost, and someone absorbs it. By refusing to price my items at a rate that accounted for sales tax, shipping costs, and profit expectations, I was that someone. My $40 pullover only brought in $2- 4 in profit. And as I laid out my concerns during the conversation with my friend, I realized I’d been running my new business the same way I showed up in my mothering and other relationships.

There was a clear pattern of offering as much as I can, and asking for as little as possible in return. When the imbalance was unchecked, joys turned into burdens.

Quit or Confront the Conflict?

Often, we establish relationships—with our partners, friends, and children—that are predicated on us absorbing the cost. We move through these relationships, giving all we can to demonstrate our love for them and desire to be in intentional community. But somehow, we’ve left ourselves out of the wellness equation. And we’re surprised when our interactions overwhelm and frustrate us, leaving us to ask ourselves, “Should I quit?”

At first observation, quitting can feel like the only viable option. Makes sense— it’s human to walk away when you face obstacles. (There’s no judgment here; I’m great for zooming through the minor inconvenience to abandon the entire pipeline.) But I’ve found that when my first reaction to a challenge is quitting, I’m in a battle with all-or-nothing thinking in disguise. I try, even if only briefly, to ask myself an important question I ask regularly:

“What would have to change for this to work?”

But what about in the real world?

It’s easy to say I want to interact with loved ones—or run a business— from a place of balance and ease. But the reality feels harder, especially with our kids. We’re taught that everything worth having is worth putting in the effort and suffering for. It’s true. There will be learning curves and challenging moments in our professional goals and parenting. But I don’t think we have an effort problem. I think we have an imagination problem. The challenge is that the solution—crafting motherhood in a way that aligns with our needs AND our children’s—is rarely seen. That parenting model doesn’t align with what we’ve been told makes a good mother, loved one, or business owner.

As Black mothers and others, we’re prepped to anticipate and absorb the cost of others’ needs from childhood, often for our safety. It’s scary to think we can craft relationships based on our needs. We experience tension, unease, and maybe even fear because we believe there’s a conflict between our needs and those of our loved ones. And since it doesn’t feel good to be in conflict with what we need and what our kids need, we take the easiest route and abandon ourselves to ease the discomfort. (There’s a word for this, btw; it’s cognitive dissonance!)

In relationships with kids and loved ones, our “this isn’t sustainable” doesn’t look like abandoning a new business plan. (Or does it?) When a vision feels unsustainable, our thoughts and actions shift to ease the tension. We tell ourselves that reclaiming who we were before kids (or discovering her for the first time) is unsustainable. Holding our interest and our children’s hobbies feels unmanageable, so we panic and tell ourselves that self-abandonment is a reasonable mama requirement for self-soothing. Painfully, when we can’t afford both, we tell ourselves we’re cutting costs (read: minimizing conflict) and pretend the mental, emotional, and spiritual consequences of leaving ourselves behind don’t carry their own fee.

Redefining the mother-child needs conflict.

I hear you saying, “OK, OK.” I want motherhood to feel better! But I’m not at a place where I can make everyone else responsible for their own shit. It’s not practical right now. I don’t have a plan, and they need me.

Guess what: That’s OK! There’s power in reminding ourselves that we have options and agency, even when we’re not ready to act on them. And most of us, myself included, are right there with you. Somewhere between the awareness we want things to change and the freefall toward the life journeys we want.

Now, let’s revisit our cognitive dissonance definition, adding the word seemingly:

We feel uncomfortable because we hold seemingly conflicting beliefs, values, or attitudes.

The good news? Things aren’t always what they seem. Naming that tension directly and exploring what you can do to put that weight down helps us make mothering sustainable AND gives our children a better model.

When we acknowledge our needs and our children’s needs don’t inherently contradict, and can even complement each other, we see benefits to cost sharing and get new narratives:

• When I say no to my children, I’m showing them it’s safe to care for their needs in every relationship.

• When I commit to 15- 20 minutes of dedicated daily “me time,” I’m showing how routines support self-care.

• An example of accountability does more to prepare my kids for the world than an example of perfection.

• Letting my child spend time with a trusted loved one shows they can find support in many places in our community.

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Countless research documents the connection between maternal mental health and children’s well-being. There’s considerable overlap between our needs and the lessons they need to learn. Above all, when you give from your capacity, you do so from a more genuine, sustainable place.

Tying the loose ends

My friends' response to that conversation was something I already knew. It was cute that I established my merch with needs in mind. But it isn’t cute to offer a service that made my life harder. She also pointed out that their bank balance wasn’t my business. If I want to keep selling merch, the solution is simple, though uncomfortable. I’d have to adjust my prices to include taxes and shipping at a rate that reflects the effort, intention, and expense involved in making these items available. I can’t be everything to everyone, especially at the cost of my sanity, or I’m not moving in the intention of Free Black Motherhood in either mission or merch.

The people who really support the Free Black Motherhood mission would want me to do so from a sustainable place. Likewise, the people who love you want you to love from a place of ease, not strain. Of course, our children aren’t our customers, and they won’t always understand words like emotional capacity, hypersacrifice, and mama burnout. But they DO know tired, frustration, and overwhelm. When we let our children and other loved ones know we have to make small shifts so we can show up as best as possible, you’ll be surprised how much they get it.

And one day, when they're in relationships—possibly parenting—they’ll remember your example and their ability to craft relationships on their terms. We’ll all be better for it.

The Threads Keeping Me Sane

Music

• 5th Symphony in Congo Square - Jon Batiste

I’m passively watching:

• Haunted Hotel (Netflix)

Audiobooks

• We Should All Be Millionaires, Rachel Rodger

  
  

What now?

• Reflect: What opportunities are there to “share the cost” of my relationship with my children and other loved ones? Where have I created conflict between my needs and my children’s needs?

• Remember: “I don’t have to deprioritize my needs to be a ‘good mother”

- In search of liberated mothering, Amb, the aspiring Free Black Mama

Free Black Motherhood is a heart-scheduled newsletter that encourages Black mothers and others to ask “why” and “who says” as they craft motherhood on their own terms. Its core purpose is to remind mothers that we deserve the same freedom we want for our loved ones; without us, multi-generational healing is incomplete.

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