A Mother’s Getaway: Between Freedom and Guilt

As I write this, I’m sitting at the airport gate, waiting for my zone to be called. A hot coffee in one hand, a stack of fashion magazines in the other—the same ritual I used to have every time I traveled, back before kids. There’s a peacefulness in this moment, a rare kind of stillness that feels almost foreign.

I feel free.

For the first time in a long time, I’m traveling with my husband, just the two of us. The kids are home with their grandparents, who adore them beyond words. I’ve been looking forward to this for so long, yet here I am, already missing them. It’s as if a piece of me has been left behind, like I’m missing a limb.

And then, of course, there’s the guilt.

Why does it always creep in? As if we, as mothers, don’t deserve time away. As if prioritizing our relationship or ourselves is some kind of betrayal. My kids are safe, happy, and being spoiled by their grandparents—so why does it feel like I’ve done something wrong?

And let’s not even talk about the anxiety. My mind has been running through every worst-case scenario, each one more dramatic than the last. Sleep? Nonexistent.

I think back to when we booked this trip. We were exhausted, overstimulated, running on fumes. “We need this,” my husband and I agreed. “Ten days?” I asked. “Absolutely,” he said. “It might not even be enough.”

But last night, as I lay in bed, all I could think was: Maybe just a day would have been enough. Maybe I don’t even need this at all. I already miss them.

And yet, here I am. And now, it’s time to silence those thoughts, to remind myself that we do deserve this. Stepping away from motherhood for a moment doesn’t make me any less of a mother. It allows me to return even stronger.

We’re headed to Playa del Carmen, the city where our story began. The place where we met, where we fell in love. A place that holds so many memories—memories we now get to add to, just the two of us. I have to remind myself that it is ok to take a break, and enjoy the little things, like the fact that i can listen to music with noise canceling headphones, or read magazines, play solitaire, or close my eyes.

So as I switch my phone to airplane mode, I make a choice. A choice to let go of the guilt, the overthinking, the never-ending mental load of motherhood. To simply be present. To reconnect. To enjoy this time as a couple.

To reset.