Medicated Moms: Facing a Double Standard

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On the first day of school, I had grand ideas of creating a delightful breakfast for my kids. I set my alarm a bit earlier to fry bacon, warm croissants, and slice up fresh fruit. If I moved quickly enough, I might even enjoy a cup of coffee before my sleepy, excited children tumbled down the stairs, eager yet nervous for a new school year.

My vision was to create a warm and loving atmosphere, where they’d enjoy honey-drizzled pastries while we chatted about their upcoming adventures and classmates. I imagined sticky kisses and grateful hugs as they thanked me for making the morning special. But oh, how naïve I was.

Reality hit hard. Two of my kids ignored their alarms, there was a massive dispute over the hot water, and one child had an unfortunate accident in bed. The bacon was undercooked, the croissants were burnt, and the fruit sat untouched. The morning spiraled into chaos, far from my idyllic dreams.

Having just moved two weeks before school started, I hadn’t informed the transportation department or figured out the bus stop. Relying on my 10-year-old’s “expertise,” I said goodbye to our three elementary-aged kids and finally brewed that long-awaited cup of coffee. Just as I added Stevia, my daughter burst in, panic-stricken, to announce that the bus driver hadn’t noticed them. School was set to begin in just ten minutes.

Barefoot and braless, I quickly gathered my two youngest daughters and urged the older ones to hurry to the van. I couldn’t believe how my daughter had messed things up on the very first day! My frustration only compounded her anxiety as we rushed to school, arriving just a minute before the bell rang. I apologized, but the damage was done.

On the drive home, I felt the tension creeping up my shoulders. My grip on the steering wheel tightened, and I could feel my heart racing and jaw clenching. Parental guilt washed over me, and it was suffocating.

Once in the driveway, it hit me that I hadn’t even taken a single photo of my kids during this chaotic morning. I was far too frazzled to capture a moment. Meanwhile, social media would soon be flooded with perfect, curated back-to-school images—kids with neatly tucked shirts, big bows, and cheerful smiles, proudly holding chalkboards detailing their new year.

In a moment of defiance, I decided to share a photo of myself—disheveled, braless, with my prescription bottle of Xanax in hand. The reactions were mostly supportive, with fellow parents appreciating my honesty. However, a surprising number of harsh comments labeled me as “an addict” and a “bad mom.” One commenter even advised against driving while on Xanax, as if my experience mirrored hers. Another, who later deleted her comment, said she’d pray for my “innocent children.”

I typically ignore online trolls, but I found myself enraged by the unfair judgments directed at me. Why is it that mothers who share photos of themselves enjoying a glass of wine aren’t subjected to the same scrutiny? I’ve never seen anyone question a mother’s parenting abilities when she posts about needing a “Mom-garita” or shares a meme about the cost of wine in parenthood.

This double standard is frustrating. Moms who drink are celebrated, but those of us who take prescribed medications are often stigmatized. It’s not about condemning drinking—it’s about recognizing that choosing to manage mental health through medication doesn’t make us “weak” or “bad.” In fact, I’m a better parent because I am medicated. Let’s put that on a dish towel!

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In summary, the stigma surrounding medicated mothers highlights a troubling double standard in society. While drinking is often celebrated, mental health medication faces unjust criticism, despite its crucial role in helping many moms be their best selves.