When pop star Chappell Roan, 27, sat down for her Call Her Daddy interview, she didn’t set out to comment on motherhood. But one offhand remark did just that—and it’s sparking a wave of emotional responses from moms everywhere.
“All of my friends who have kids are in hell,” she said. “I don’t know anyone who’s happy and has children at this age… anyone who has light in their eyes.”
Her words weren’t meant to sting. They were observational. But they struck a chord—because for so many moms in the thick of raising babies and toddlers, her comment didn’t feel like a dig. It felt like recognition.
At Motherly, we’re not here to debate whether she’s right. We’re here to unpack why so many moms felt seen, exposed, or conflicted—and what it reveals about the invisible load modern parents carry.
The quiet grief of losing your spark
We don’t talk enough about how many moms struggle in those early years—not just physically, but emotionally. One minute, you’re someone who goes out on a whim, stays up late laughing with friends, or gets dressed for yourself. The next, you’re running on three hours of sleep and your biggest victory of the day is microwaving your coffee once before finishing it.
No one tells you how hard it will hit when you don’t recognize yourself in the mirror. Or when your non-parent friends notice that something’s changed—and not in a glowy, “you’re such a mama goddess” kind of way. In a “you seem really… tired” kind of way.
For many moms, Chappell’s words didn’t just sting—they resonated. Because it’s hard to pretend you’re thriving when you’re not. It’s hard to say, “I love my kid, but this part is brutal,” without fear of being misunderstood.
Related: Ellen Pompeo on working motherhood: ‘You can’t give 100% to your job when you’re a mom’
Why Chappell’s words hit so hard
Chappell Roan isn’t a mom—and that’s exactly why this hit so hard. Sometimes, it takes someone outside of the motherhood bubble to name what moms feel but don’t say. The moment you hear a friend say, “You just don’t seem like yourself anymore,” can be jarring. But it can also be validating.
Her comment didn’t come from cruelty. It came from witnessing. She was simply observing what she saw in people she loves: a kind of burnout that’s visible, even when it’s unspoken. And that matters.
We often expect new moms to carry the load quietly—to be grateful, to be glowing, to bounce back. But the truth is, when someone outside the trenches looks in and sees the fatigue, the loss of self, the ache for sleep or silence or space? That’s a mirror, not a mic drop. And it’s worth paying attention to.
Related: The surprising identity shift of motherhood no one talks about
What moms really need
Let’s be clear: Not all moms of young kids are miserable. Some are deeply fulfilled. Many are both exhausted and in love. And most are doing their best in a system that doesn’t give them enough.
What moms need isn’t more commentary from the sidelines. They need systemic change—real support that meets real needs.
Related: Kylie Kelce gets real about “severe baby blues” and the hardest parts of early motherhood
Real parental leave
Millions of American parents return to work mere days or weeks after giving birth—still healing, still figuring out feeding, still not sleeping. Real parental leave means time to physically recover and emotionally bond without risking your job or paycheck. It means recognizing that caring for a newborn is not a “break” from work—it is work. And until we treat it that way, we’ll keep seeing moms return to the office hollowed out, not whole.
Related: This study proves that paid parental leave benefits moms’ health—for decades
Flexible work policies
Not every job can be remote—but every job can be more human. Flexibility at work means understanding that moms might need to log off early for pickup, take a midday pumping break, or work nontraditional hours to make life work. It’s not about special treatment—it’s about realistic expectations. Flexible policies give moms the freedom to do their jobs well and care for their kids without constant guilt. When employers trust parents to manage their time, parents repay that trust in productivity, loyalty, and long-term retention.
Community care
We were never meant to raise children in isolation. But in modern parenthood, too many moms find themselves doing just that—far from extended family, lacking nearby friends, or without affordable help. Community care looks like meal trains after birth, shared school pickups, and neighbors who check in just because. It looks like mom groups that don’t just talk—but show up. When moms have a village, they don’t just survive the early years—they begin to thrive in them.
Permission to be honest—without being labeled ungrateful
It’s possible to love your children fiercely and still feel overwhelmed, bored, lonely, or lost. But too often, when moms voice those truths, they’re told to “enjoy every moment” or reminded how “lucky” they are. That kind of toxic positivity silences real struggles. Giving moms permission to speak openly—without shame—creates room for healing. When honesty is met with empathy instead of judgment, moms are more likely to ask for help. Because it’s not ungrateful to say motherhood is hard. It’s a form of strength.
It’s not just a comment. It’s a cultural reckoning.
Chappell isn’t alone in her hesitations. Many young women today are asking hard questions about whether motherhood is sustainable or compatible with the lives they envision. Some are deciding to wait. Some are deciding to opt out entirely. And some are waiting for a cultural shift that makes motherhood more supported, not more sacrificial.
In a way, Chappell’s comment is part of that reckoning. It reminds us that the way we frame motherhood matters—not just for moms, but for the future moms watching.
Let’s stop pretending moms have to shine all the time
Motherhood is beautiful. It’s also brutally hard. So let’s stop expecting moms to shine when they’re barely staying afloat.
Because maybe the problem isn’t that Chappell Roan called it out. Maybe the problem is that so many moms feel like they can’t.