“Who am I, and who do they think I am? Why can’t they see me? Why can’t they hear me?” Questions I never expected to be asking myself as I began my journey into motherhood. That was 10 years ago now, but new research from Peanut – the platform I founded to connect and support women through all stages of motherhood – has shown I’m not alone in having those thoughts and feelings. In fact, 72% of mothers who responded to our recent poll said they felt invisible in 2023. 

So why are mums still feeling so unseen? 

Before I became a mother, my identity was tied so closely to who I was professionally. I was running a successful dating platform, surrounded by trusted colleagues and much-loved friends both in and out of work. I never questioned feeling seen, heard or acknowledged, I just was (and I wasn’t afraid to let people know I expected to be). But pretty soon after having my first child, Finlay, I began to feel uncertain about my identity, no longer sure who I was in this new role. I’d anticipated the sleepless nights, the squidgy face and tiny chubby fingers clutching mine as I embarked on the seismic life change that is entering motherhood. Yet like so many women, I didn’t factor in or anticipate changes that would rock my understanding of myself to my core. 

After Finlay was born, I found it difficult to remember the level of confidence I’d had pre-birth. ‘Michelle the mother’ was a different character in my life, and she wasn’t necessarily a starring role. The transition was abrupt. I went from an environment of constant interaction and acknowledgement to days spent in solitude with my newborn. Each morning as my husband left for work, I felt a combination of resentment and (without meaning to sound too dramatic) abandonment. Caught in a relentless cycle of self-doubt and failing attempts to leave the house, I felt increasingly invisible.

The loneliness crept in without me even being able to identify it. Life wasn’t exactly as I’d been promised on social media. I didn’t feel how mothers seemed to feel there; I felt confused and overwhelmed, and longed to talk to someone about something normal. While I was filled with love for this tiny person in front of me, I felt myself becoming smaller. I became silent, yearning for support, but too scared to ask for it and reveal my vulnerability.

The disparity in parenting roles soon became clear to me. My husband received praise for childcare, whilst my daily efforts were often overlooked. Day-to-day conversations started to gravitate towards my role as mum, not Michelle. Friends who used to come to me for advice or a night out slowly drifted away, assuming I was too busy or disinterested in anything beyond motherhood. And this experience is not mine alone; it is a silent epidemic that impacts women worldwide. Peanut’s Invisible Mothers campaign reveals 93% of mothers feel unappreciated, unacknowledged or unseen. This resonates with me deeply because I was one of these women.

The disparity between the support women expect and the reality they face is glaring. Almost half report feeling abandoned by the healthcare system post-birth, and 70% believed societal structures would offer more support than they did. This has serious repercussions, with 95% asserting that this invisibility significantly affects women’s mental health and wellbeing.

Sixty-six per cent of women agree that feelings of invisibility are exacerbated by the lack of empathy and understanding they get from society, and there were definitely moments in my journey where well-meaning advice felt like a personal attack. Whether it was colleagues, friends, family or even strangers, people often felt armed with opinions and words that showed a lack of understanding about how I was really feeling.

I vividly remember how people were so quick to comment on my size. “You’re so big!” they’d say, hands reaching out to pat my stomach as if it were an object rather than my body. Rarely would people just say “Hi Michelle, how are you?” It became so overwhelming that I would avoid social interactions to avoid the barrage of well-meaning yet misguided comments and conversations. 

Our State of Invisibility report offers alternative ways to approach conversations, promoting deeper and more respectful conversations. Let’s replace ‘how’s the baby?’ with ‘how are you really? Mentally, emotionally, physically?’ Instead of asking ‘is the baby fed? They seem hungry’, we can say: ‘Can I help you?’

Invisible Mothers is more than a study; it’s a call to action for society to acknowledge unseen maternal struggles, value mothers’ multifaceted roles and foster genuine support. Change can begin at home, at work, with friends, family or in public. It starts with mindful conversations and language. By reframing questions and expressing concerns thoughtfully, we create a defining line between making someone feel visible or invisible.

I stand with every woman who has ever felt invisible. 

It’s 2023. It’s time to challenge the narratives that have perpetuated invisibility for far too long and support the authentic, unfiltered lives of women.

Images: Getty/courtesy of Michelle Kennedy