My AuDHD Experience With Masking, Burnout, and Overstimulation in Motherhood
Part of the Performing… Series within The Pieces of Me Series—reflections from my AuDHD journal.
I’m still learning, unlearning, and putting language to my experiences in real time. What I share here reflects what I understand right now—not a final or complete picture.
I Thought I Knew What a “Perfect Mom” Was
I thought I knew exactly what a “perfect mom” looked like.
She was smiling and happy all the time.
Her kids were well-behaved.
Smart. Advanced, even.
Well-dressed. Presentable.
She had it all together.
Didn’t need help.
Her “mommy instincts” just… kicked in.
That was the standard.
And I believed it.
I thought I knew exactly what a “perfect mom” looked like.
Where I Learned the Script
Those ideas were reinforced everywhere.
Social media.
Blogs.
Mommy groups.
Church.
And in certain spaces, especially as a Black mom, there was added pressure.
To look put together.
To be competent.
To be above reproach.
To avoid stereotypes.
It felt like I had to be flawless just to be accepted.
The Performance
So I performed.
I said yes to everything that looked like “good motherhood.”
The crunchy lifestyle.
The natural way.
The “do everything right” way.
Even when it didn’t feel natural.
Even when it didn’t feel sustainable.
Even when I was overwhelmed.
Some of it was beautiful.
Some of it genuinely helped me.
But a lot of it?
It was pressure.
Motherhood Revealed What I Didn’t Yet Have Language For
In hindsight, I truly believe motherhood revealed so many of my ADHD and autistic traits…
Even though I didn’t know that’s what was happening.
I was overly sensitive to being needed 24/7.
Especially as an exclusive breastfeeder.
The constant touch.
The crying.
The lack of sleep.
The endless to-do list.
Trying to establish routines—only for them to constantly change.
It felt like I was drowning in something I couldn’t name.
At the time, I thought:
Maybe this is baby blues.
Maybe this is postpartum.
But now?
I can see that it may have been burnout.
A Moment I Couldn’t Ignore
After my second pregnancy, I was exhausted.
Ten months of carrying.
Navigating gestational diabetes.
Managing anxiety.
Trusting God through it all.
The birth went well. My baby was healthy.
But when I got home, I was done.
Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.
And then…
My mom invited our lovely neighbor over to see the baby, as any excited and proud lola would do. However, at the time, all I knew was…
No one asked me.
No one checked in.
No one considered how I was feeling.
And I remember feeling completely overwhelmed.
Livid, even. (Autistic meltdown? Anxiety? Both? I think so.)
That moment told me something I didn’t yet know how to say:
I needed space.
And thankfully, my husband stepped in and protected that.
But that feeling?
That overwhelm?
That was real.
From the outside, it looked like I had it together. Inside, I felt like I was failing.
What It Felt Like on the Inside
I remember thinking:
I’m a fraud.
From the outside, it looked like I had it together.
My babies were sweet.
The toddler years weren’t terrible.
Even as the kids got a little older, everyone jumped at the opportunity to babysit for us because our children were “so easy,” “so fun,” and “self-sufficient.” (Yes, even as preschoolers!)
But inside?
I felt like I was failing.
I was overwhelmed.
Anxious.
On edge.
Irritable.
I wanted to control everything.
I didn’t want anyone else watching my children.
Not because I didn’t trust them (or maybe?)…
But because I felt like I had to hold it all together.
The Overstimulation
Motherhood wasn’t just emotionally overwhelming.
It was sensory overload.
Breastfeeding alone came with:
- oversupply
- leaking
- latching struggles
- discomfort
- pumping
- engorgement
- that crazy “let down” feeling
- fighting with a nursing cover in church so that the tatas aren’t on display
Then add:
- a crying baby
- milk everywhere
- managing my postpartum health
- managing my environment
- the ups and downs of being pregnant and diabetic and chasing around a lovable, newly walking baby
(Phew!)
Overstimulation also went beyond my senses.
It was establishing a routine and then it changing.
Items in the diaper bag being misplaced or put back in different places.
Traffic causing lateness to.. well, everywhere.
Then there was the dreaded… fallen pacifier. Yikes!
Not only was the baby crying, but so was I! I was often tapped out.
So much so that I look back now, and what some may tag as “emotional instability”…
I realize now that I was experiencing autistic meltdowns—
driven by overstimulation and burnout.
At the time, I didn’t have the language for it—I just knew something, and sometimes everything, felt like too much.
What looked like emotional instability was autistic meltdowns—driven by overstimulation and burnout.
What I Actually Needed
Looking back, I didn’t need to do more.
I needed:
Rest.
Space.
Grace.
H-E-L-P.
I needed to stop comparing.
To step away from Pinterest and YouTube—places that made me feel like I wasn’t doing enough.
I needed to recognize that staying home sometimes wasn’t failure…
It was wisdom.
It was necessary.
What I See Now
Back then, I thought I needed to know everything.
To make a flawless transition into motherhood.
To be an expert after my first child.
But now? I know I needed something different.
I needed to be honest about the season I was in.
To model what I tell my kids all the time:
Practice makes progress.
Not perfection.
Because perfection was never attainable.
But progress?
Growth?
Grace?
That was always available.
Where I Am Now
Motherhood didn’t just reveal my capacity.
It revealed my needs, practically and spiritually.
And over the years I’ve learned to mother in a way that actually honors both. Now that I can reframe things through the lens of my autism and ADHD, I am more attuned.
Not performing.
Not striving.
Not proving.
Just… growing with God’s grace.
And maybe the most freeing thing I’ve learned is this:
I don’t have to perform motherhood to be a good mom.
If you want to read more about what masking has looked like in my life, you can start here: Performing “Normal”.
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