Breaking Up With My Toxic Mom Group

Since becoming a public figure as a teenager, it’s often the thing I least expect that people most want to talk about. Sometimes, I’ll say something offhandedly, only to see it turn into a headline or start a conversation on TikTok. There’s one recent topic that has made my phone blow up like no other since I first wrote about it a few weeks ago. It’s a subject that has made women DM me to say “I feel seen” and to share their most emotional stories with me. It’s one that has also made wannabe online sleuths try to do some investigating like they’re on CSI (please, don’t even try — whatever you think is true isn’t even close). The topic? Mom-group drama.

After the birth of my first daughter, I was craving connection with other mothers. I needed someone to talk to about which diaper bag to buy, whether a Snoo is worth it, and how you can possibly get anything done if you’re supposed to “sleep while the baby is sleeping.” But what started out logistical soon became deeply personal. I needed to talk to someone else who related to what I was going through: the mood swings, the late nights, saying good-bye to who I used to be and getting to know my daughter and the new person I was becoming. 

So I felt lucky when my friend brought together a group of new moms that she knew. My friend’s friends were in the same situation as I was. Most of us had been pregnant through the early pandemic, so we missed out on the activities where you meet other expectant mothers. We hadn’t had baby showers or prenatal yoga, and hardly anyone had held our newborns. But finally, we were able to be together, and our kids were able to be together, and it all felt right.

What I remember most from those early days was how impressed I was by those women and all of the amazing things they had going on. They were building brands, running their own companies, launching creative projects. They just happened to also be mothers of young kids. I was running my own company too, and I felt energized by being around women who understood the challenge of feeding a baby while taking a Zoom call. I felt a sense of belonging. And it made me hopeful about finding the balance between fulfilling work and family life, since all these cool women were able to do it. Maybe we’d be able to share our secrets to success. By the time we started getting together for playdates and got the group chat going, I was certain that I’d found my village.

But over time, I began to wonder whether that was really true. I remember being left out of a couple of group hangs, and I knew about them because Instagram made sure it fed me every single photo and Instagram Story. Another time, at one of the mom’s dinner parties, I realized where I sat with her — which was at the end of the table, far from the rest of the women. I was starting to feel frozen out of the group, noticing every way that they seemed to exclude me. At first, I tried not to take things personally. It’s not like people aren’t allowed to get together without me — and maybe there were perfectly good reasons that I hadn’t been invited. We were all busy, life was hectic. I told myself it was all in my head and it wasn’t a big deal.

And yet, I could sense a growing distance between me and the other members of the group, who seemed to not even care that I wasn’t around much. When everyone else attended a birthday dinner together, I was met with excuses as to why I hadn’t been invited. I still don’t get why I wasn’t at the girl hang that they all planned at my daughter’s birthday. As I increasingly felt left out, I remembered something. Or rather, someone. During the early days of the group, there was another mom who often wasn’t included. I’d picked up on hints of a weird dynamic, but at the time, I didn’t dwell on it too much. I was just so happy to have found these incredible, smart, funny women. Now it seemed that this group had a pattern of leaving someone out. And that someone had become me.

Why me? The truth is, I don’t know and I probably never will. What I do know is that it took me back to an unpleasant but familiar feeling I thought I’d left behind years ago. Here I was sitting alone one night after getting my daughter to bed, thinking, Maybe I’m not cool enough? All of a sudden, I was in high school again, feeling totally lost as to what I was doing “wrong” to be left out.

People often assume that because I acted as a child, I had on-set tutors. But I went to a regular high school and had the typical teenage experience of trying to figure myself out. Lately, I’ve been thinking about how being a new mom has emotional echoes of high school. It’s an exciting time of discovery and growth, but it’s also a time of feeling vulnerable and unsure. You’re thrust into new situations with new people, wondering if they could be the friend who can walk beside you in this new time in your life — and there’s no way to know for sure unless you put yourself out there. And in both cases, your hormones are all over the place.

Even though it had been decades since tenth grade, the experience of being left out felt so similar. Back then, I would have quietly retreated and avoided confrontation because I wasn’t confident enough to speak up for myself, hoping to be invited back and ready to pretend nothing ever happened if I was. But I’m not in high school anymore. I’m a mom. And it’s because I’m a mom that I couldn’t stay quiet. I kept thinking, Aren’t we supposed to be teaching our kids to speak up for themselves when their feelings are hurt? When they get left out on the playground, aren’t we supposed to teach kids to include each other? I knew that I had to speak up for myself, just like I would want my daughters to do.

So that’s exactly what I texted to the group after being left out from yet another group hang: “This is too high school for me and I don’t want to take part in it anymore.” It didn’t exactly go over well. Some of the others tried to smooth things over. One sent flowers, then ignored me when I thanked her for them. Another tried to convince me that everyone assumed I’d been invited to gatherings and just hadn’t shown up. Then why didn’t anyone ever ask where I was?, I wondered. To be clear, I have never considered the moms to be bad people. (Maybe one.) But I do think our group dynamic stopped being healthy and positive — for me, anyway.

Surely, it would have been easier to disappear without explanation — and that would have allowed all of us to convince ourselves that we simply “drifted apart.” But from the feedback I’ve received since I started talking about this, I now know I’m far from the only mother who’s been brought to tears by members of a group that’s supposed to lift everyone up. I had more than one friend reach out and say, “You’re so brave.” I thought that was such an interesting response. Why, I wondered, is it so scary to talk about this? Motherhood has enough challenges without having to wonder if the people around you are on your side. You deserve to go through motherhood with people who actually, you know, like you. And if you have to wonder if they do, here’s the hard-earned lesson I hope you’ll take to heart: It’s not the right group for you. Even if it looks like they’re having the best time on Instagram.