When Wonder Feels Far Away: A Love Note to the Anxious Mom
You know those moments—when your child stares in awe at a dandelion, eyes wide, hands gentle, breath holding steady before blowing the seeds into the wind like they’re casting a wish?
Those moments can stop you in your tracks.
Not just because they’re beautiful—
but because they remind you of something you forgot you once had.
Where Did Your Wonder Go?
Motherhood is full of incredible transformations. Your body changes, yes—but your brain does too. Science tells us that maternal brain plasticity increases empathy, sensitivity, and even intuition. You become more emotionally attuned. And yet, you may also become more mentally cluttered.
Anxiety, mental load, fear of “getting it wrong,” and the nonstop pace of life can dim your access to wonder. It’s not that it’s gone—it’s just harder to notice.
And when you’re stuck in a loop of worry, it makes sense that joy feels distant. It’s not because you’re doing anything wrong.
It’s because your nervous system is working overtime trying to keep you and your little ones safe.
But here’s what we often forget:
Awe isn’t reserved for special moments.
It lives in small, everyday glimmers—often hiding in plain sight.
Glimmers: The Quiet Counterpart to Triggers
In trauma-informed work, we often talk about triggers—those cues that send the body into fight, flight, freeze, or fawn.
But there's another side of the story: glimmers.
Coined by Deb Dana, a leading voice in polyvagal theory, glimmers are those micro-moments of safety, calm, connection, or delight.
They're small, but they matter.
They’re what help bring your nervous system back into regulation.
A dandelion seed carried on the wind.
The sound of your child’s laughter.
Sunlight spilling across the floor.
The warmth of your tea, held between both hands.
You don’t have to chase joy.
You can notice it. And in noticing, you begin to receive it.
You Are Wired for Wonder
Even when anxiety makes everything feel tight and urgent, the capacity for joy hasn’t left you.
The ability to feel awe isn’t broken—it just needs a little room to breathe again.
Let that truth in:
You were made to feel deeply.
To find beauty in little things.
To carry joy in your body, not just in your to-do list.
What If You Gave Yourself Permission?
To play.
To rest.
To be human.
To notice what lights you up.
Sometimes, therapy is the space where that remembering begins.
Not by forcing joy or “fixing” anything—
but by gently unwinding the layers of worry, shame, or pressure that have made it harder to feel like you.
You don’t have to earn your way back to wonder.
You just need space to notice it again.
And you deserve that space.
Looking for a place to begin?
At ēma therapy, I work with anxious and overwhelmed moms who are learning how to soften into themselves again.
Sometimes, the first step is noticing the dandelion.
Ellie Messinger-Adams, LPCC
Owner and Therapist @ ēma therapy