By Elise Dyer, Clinical Associate Psychologist & Clinical Lecturer
I’m sitting in a café in Istanbul. The coffee is exceptional. The pastries are warm and buttery and everything a pastry should be. I’m alone, reading and not checking my phone constantly. I’m fully present in this moment.
And immediately, I think: Ella, my daughter would love this. She should be here. I wish I could share this with her.
I take a photo. I video the cafe. I imagine her reaction. I make a mental note to bring back a pastry for her to try. I feel the familiar pang of mum guilt mixed with something else. Freedom.
This is the paradox of travelling alone as a mother. The guilt that comes with doing something you desperately need. The joy shadowed by the wish that the person you love most could experience it with you. The way your phone becomes both connection and constant reminder that you are not with your daughter.
I know I’m not alone in this. Across parenting forums and communities, mothers ask the same questions repeatedly. Is it selfish to travel alone? Should I feel guilty for enjoying myself? How do I not miss my kids so much it ruins the trip? Why does enjoying food or a beautiful view feel tinged with guilt?
These questions reveal something deeper than simple logistics. They reveal the impossible standard we hold mothers to: to be entirely selfless, to never prioritise our own needs, to feel incomplete without our children present.
I am here to tell you that this standard is a lie. And that travelling alone as a mother is not selfish. It is essential.
The reality of Mum guilt while travelling
The guilt arrives in unexpected moments. You are having the time of your life and suddenly you are aware that your daughter is not there. You catch yourself experiencing joy and wondering if you should feel guilty about that joy. You eat something delicious and immediately think of her. You see something beautiful and want to capture it for her because you cannot capture the experience itself.
Some of this is beautiful. The desire to share experiences with your child, to bring pieces of your travels back to her, to think of her warmth even in moments of solitude. But some of it is insidious guilt. The guilt that says: you should not be enjoying this without her. You are a bad mother for being here alone. You are selfish for prioritising your needs.
Forums full of mothers reveal this struggle constantly. One mother wrote: “I went to a spa weekend alone and felt guilty the entire time. I kept thinking my daughter needed me at home.” Another: “I travelled and everything I did I thought about how I wished my kids were there. I couldn’t enjoy anything without that guilt.”
The guilt is real. But the guilt is not truth.
The weight of the mental load
Here is what I have learned about why I need these breaks, why the guilt is so heavy, and why the relief is so profound when I travel alone.
At home, I carry a constant mental load. I am always thinking: what shall I feed Ella for dinner? Did she have her five a day today? Did she drink enough water? Did I take her to enough activities? I find myself watching her eat, watching her breathe. I almost want to do those natural things for her, which leads to exhaustion mental and physical. This need doubles when I am away with her because I want her to enjoy herself but also protect her from potential risks, scanning constantly for danger, for disappointment, for discomfort.
When I go away on my own, the mental load lessens. I do not care about my own five a day or anything else. I get this feeling of space in my head. Room to think. Room to just be. It is not that I love Ella less when I am away. It is that I finally stop holding my breath. I finally let my brain rest from the constant vigilance that motherhood demands.
This is why the relief feels so sweet and why the guilt feels so sharp. We are not supposed to want relief from our children. We are not supposed to feel lighter without them. But we do. And that is okay.
What the research tells us
Psychologists and parenting researchers have extensively studied maternal guilt and its impact on family wellbeing. The findings are clear and somewhat surprising: mothers who take time for themselves, who maintain their own interests and identities, who model self care and personal prioritisation, raise children with better mental health outcomes.
Research on parental burnout shows that mothers who never take breaks, who never prioritise their own needs, experience higher rates of depression, anxiety, and emotional exhaustion. Chronically burned out mothers cannot be the patient, present, engaged mothers they want to be. They are depleted.
Studies on resilience show that parents who maintain their own sense of identity and pursue their own interests model psychological health for their children. Children benefit from seeing their parents as whole people with needs, boundaries, and lives beyond parenthood. This teaches children that they too are allowed to have needs and pursue their interests without guilt.
Attachment research, often misunderstood as requiring constant physical proximity, actually shows that secure attachment develops through parents being emotionally available and regulated. A mother who is burnt out and resentful from never having time alone is less emotionally available than a mother who takes breaks and returns refreshed.
The research is unambiguous: taking time for yourself and pursuing your interests is not selfish. It is essential to your mental health and your capacity to be a good mother.
My experience: Mum to Ella, psychologist, traveller
I love my daughter Ella more than I can articulate. She is the centre of my world. And I also love travelling. I love being alone in unfamiliar places. I love the freedom of not being responsible for anyone but myself. I love discovering new food, new landscapes, new ways of being.
For years, I carried guilt about this. The guilt that said: a good mother would not prioritise travelling. A good mother would not want to be away from her child. A good mother would not enjoy being alone.
It took me becoming a psychologist, understanding the research, and genuinely examining where this guilt came from, to realise: this is not my mother guilt. This is socialised, gendered guilt that is imposed on mothers to keep us small and self-sacrificing.
When I travel now, yes, I think of Ella. Yes, I take videos to show her. Yes, I bring back gifts and food and stories. That is love. But I also sit in cafés alone without my phone. I eat cakes without photographing them. I experience moments fully present, not filtered through “how would Ella experience this.”
And here is what I have discovered: Ella is fine. More than fine. She is proud that her mum travels. She is curious about where I go. She loves the gifts and the stories. And she is learning from me that women are allowed to have lives and interests and needs beyond motherhood.
Our co-parenting arrangement with her dad works well because we both recognise that we are each allowed to be full people. That sometimes I need time alone. That sometimes he needs time with his own interests. And that Ella benefits from having parents who are not burnt out, resentful, or pretending that motherhood is our entire identity.
How to manage Mum guilt while travelling alone
If you are a mother who wants to travel alone but carries guilt about it, here are research backed strategies:
Reframe the guilt. When you notice guilt arising (“I should not be here without her”), pause and examine it. Is this guilt based on evidence that your daughter is harmed by your absence? Or is it based on socialised messages that mothers should be selfless? Usually, it is the latter. Name it as such.
Plan meaningful connection. Rather than trying to hide your travel or pretend it is not happening, plan how you will connect with your daughter. Video calls at a set time. Bringing back specific gifts. Planning activities together based on what you learned. This transforms the separation from something shameful into something shared.
Be present when you are there. Do not let guilt rob you of your trip by constant connection to home. Be fully present in the moments you are having. Your daughter does not need you to perform the experience for her through photos. She benefits from knowing that you had a full, rich experience.
Practice self compassion. When guilt arises (and it will), respond with kindness rather than judgment. “I am thinking of Ella because I love her. I am also here because I love myself and I need this. Both things can be true.”
Model this for your daughter. Let her see that her mum is a person with interests and needs. Let her see that taking care of yourself is not selfish. Let her learn early that women are allowed to have lives beyond motherhood.
Permission to go
If you are reading this as a mother who wants to travel alone but carries guilt, I am giving you permission. Not permission from me, though I hope this helps. But permission from the research. Permission from the evidence that shows your children will be fine. More than fine. They will benefit from having a mother who is not burnt out.
Your children will be okay while you are away. Your co parent will manage. The world will continue. And you will return from your travels more present, more patient, more yourself.
Travel. Eat the croissant. Watch the sunset. Be alone. Come back with stories and gifts and a renewed sense of self.
That is not selfish. That is what good mothers do.
Elise, a fellow mother who loves travelling solo.
