Change the narrative

Why aren’t we asking for help? A call to Jewish mothers

'Real strength isn’t about doing it all. It’s about recognising when we need support, and giving ourselves permission to seek it.'

There’s a certain reverence in Jewish culture for the role of the mother — the keeper of tradition, the nurturer of children, the balancer of life’s endless demands. It’s a role many of us embrace with love and purpose. But it can also become a burden we feel we must carry alone.

At NCJWA Vic’s Caring Mums, we see firsthand the transformative power of a simple act: accepting help. Our program offers free, non-judgmental, emotional support to new mothers, regardless of religion or background. Yet we notice something striking — while most of our volunteers are Jewish, most of the mothers receiving support are not.

This raises an important question: why aren’t Jewish mothers asking for help?

Jewish mothers are not immune to the emotional complexities of new motherhood. Sleepless nights, anxiety, and overwhelming self-doubt affect mothers in all communities. In fact, one in five Australian mothers experiences perinatal anxiety or depression. Mental health challenges don’t discriminate, and they certainly don’t skip the Jewish community.

So why do we keep it to ourselves?

A recently trained group of NCJWA Vic Caring Mum volunteers. Photo: supplied

Part of the answer lies in a deeply ingrained cultural script.

Many Jewish women grow up believing that strength means self-sufficiency. That good mothers cope without asking. That to reach out is to admit failure. We admire the balabusta — the woman who has it all under control.

But what happens when control feels impossible?

Another barrier is stigma.

Across Jewish communities there’s often unspoken pressure to keep up appearances. Postnatal depression? Not something we talk about. Feeling isolated and overwhelmed? Keep going. Others have managed surrounded by friends and family— so should you. But silence only reinforces suffering.

It’s time to change this narrative.

Real strength isn’t about doing it all. It’s about recognising when we need support, and giving ourselves permission to seek it. Vulnerability isn’t weakness. It’s the first, courageous step toward healing.

At programs like Caring Mums in Melbourne and Mum for Mum in Sydney, our volunteers are women who understand the emotional terrain of early motherhood. They offer a listening ear, a compassionate heart, and most importantly, no judgment. This support is available to every mother who needs it, including Jewish mothers.

Yet too many are still hesitant to come forward.

This reluctance is understandable, but it’s also preventable. When Jewish mothers feel that they must manage alone, we risk reinforcing a cycle of quiet suffering and the ramifications for perinatal mental health are significant. We owe it to ourselves, our children, and each other to model a healthier way forward.

We also need to recognise that accepting help doesn’t make us less strong, or a less capable Jewish mum.

Rather accepting help connects us more deeply to Jewish values of compassion (chesed), community (kehilla), and the inherent dignity (kavod) of every person. These values call us to support one another and to let ourselves be supported.

Mum for Mum. Photo: Facebook

Across Australia, we have excellent support services for mothers but anecdotally many Jewish women still feel unsure about accessing them – organisations like the national helpline and peer support services offered through PANDA and Gidget Foundation. This is where culturally informed programs like Caring Mums in Victoria and Mum for Mum in NSW can make a difference. Because it’s not just about offering help; it’s about offering it in a way that feels safe, familiar, and affirming.

So, if you are a new mother, or know one who is struggling, reach out. Not because you’re failing, but because you deserve support. And if you’re a Jewish mother who’s hesitating, please know that your vulnerability is not a flaw, it’s a gift. For yourself. For your children. For our community.

Let’s rewrite the story.

Let’s normalise asking for help.

And let’s remind each other that we were never meant to do this alone.

Anna Serry is President of NCJWA Victoria

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