Why 77% of Women Aren't Asking for Help — and What That's Costing Us

Graziadaily

a day ago

I've lost count of the number of times I've heard it, whispered in DMs, shared in quiet moments on Peanut, or typed between feeds and bedtimes: 'I didn't want to seem weak. ' Or selfish. Or dramatic. Or ungrateful.
Our recent global survey of 2,250 mothers, in partnership with Nuna, laid it bare: 77% of mothers have avoided asking for help due to guilt or shame.
Let's just pause on that. That's three in four mothers struggling in silence, not because help wasn't available, but because something in them said they shouldn't need it. They shouldn't want it, and they certainly shouldn't ask for it.
It's a symptom of our maternal mental health crisis, but it's also a cultural one. And it's hurting women everywhere.
Motherhood has always demanded strength. But somewhere along the way, that strength got distorted into a kind of toxic self-sufficiency. 'You're a mum now, you'll figure it out.' Behind that lie is a dangerous message: needing help means you're failing.
We've been conditioned to believe that asking for support is something to feel bad about. That admitting struggle is indulgent. That exhaustion is just part of the job. And when we inevitably crack under the weight of it, we're told to smile through it for our friends, or family, or Instagram. Because look at everything we have, we should be grateful.
The result? A generation of women who sit alone in darkened bedrooms, feed through the tears, and carry the invisible weight of a village they don't have.
And that's the thing about shame: it thrives in isolation. It multiplies when it has no one to challenge it.
Shame convinces us to stay quiet. To retreat. To pretend we're fine because saying otherwise might invite judgement from our family, our friends, other mothers, maybe even worse: strangers. But in that silence, it grows louder. The less we speak it, the more power it holds. Connection is the antidote.
On Peanut, we see what happens when mothers feel safe enough to be honest. When one woman says, 'I'm not okay,' and ten others say, 'Me neither.' That kind of connection doesn't fix everything, but it reminds you that you're not broken. Or alone.
In that moment of human connection, something shifts. The shame loses its grip. You realise you're not weak, you're just human.
It's not oversharing or 'attention seeking' (a horrible phrase, for what it's worth. You deserve attention.) It's about dismantling a narrative that tells mothers they're only strong if they suffer in silence. We build resilience not by pushing through alone, but by reaching out. That's how we start to heal, together.
We need to stop applauding martyrdom and start celebrating vulnerability. We need workplaces, families, partners, and platforms that say: asking for help is a strength. We need a cultural shift.
Because raising kids, and ourselves in the process, isn't a solo act, it was never meant to be.
So to every mother reading this who's been scared to say, 'I need help,' I want you to hear this clearly: You are not failing. You are human. And you deserve support.
Let's build a culture where asking isn't shameful, it's expected.
Let's bring the village back.