100 Books Like Good Moms Have Scary Thoughts

I love the way Sarah Menkedick draws from her experience as a first-time mom and researcher of mothers suffering from perinatal conditions and institutional racism to illustrate the ways living a fear-based life has become normalized in American motherhood. I was encouraged to read her candid discussion about the paralyzing anxieties new moms face while trying to meet unrealistic societal expectations. 

I appreciated her keep-it-real speak regarding mothers’ feelings of anguish that go beyond the category of “postpartum depression” in the years that follow childbirth. This book really helped me feel less alone, especially as a mom from a historically marginalized background. I regained some hope that one day I too can reclaim my identities (those that are outside of motherhood) without fears cramping my flow.

I loved learning about psychotherapist Sue Patton Thoele’s personal journey and anecdotes of other women (including moms) who found the courage to become their most authentic selves. It blew my mind to know that so many women like myself were also facing daily internal battles with self-limiting fears influenced by patriarchal norms. 

Thoele hit the nail on the head when it came to naming some of those sneaky fear-based mindsets and behaviors that were embedded in my own motherhood experience, e.g., devaluing beliefs and self-sabotaging patterns. By the end of the book, I felt motivated to implement a courageous way of living. I walked away with affirmations that were geared towards transforming my subconscious fears into self-love. 

I loved how Dr. Lissa Rankin focused on how fear (in all its devious forms) shows up in life. I learned all about her methodology for calling in courage and the physiological impacts of fear on the human body (this was especially enlightening as I was accepting my ever-changing postpartum body). 

I also appreciated Rankin’s advice to readers about courage not being a “one-size-fits-all” approach. I felt reassured that I can customize my courage-cultivating journey however I like. I was able to take away her “prescription for courage,” which included concrete steps to reframe scary thoughts and a few meditations to do during stressful moments.

I loved the way Karen Maezen Miller drew from her practices as a Zen Buddhist priest and a first-time mom to illustrate how ordinary maternal tasks can turn into enriching bits of spiritual wisdom. I felt so seen as a mom via her acknowledgements of the nitty gritty personal trials that new moms go through. 

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that difficult mom moments can actually be opportunities for moments of peace—ingredients for getting some comfort and encouragement on days when it can feel so hard. I loved the reminder that there’s no linear path in motherhood and felt inspired to address my mama-related discouragements in real time.

This is the most impactful book on motherhood I’ve ever read. It is filled with compelling data supporting what most people already know: Moms are important to their children. The book opened my eyes to WHY mothers are crucial to the early cognitive, emotional, and social development of their babies and how a mother’s impact can last a lifetime.

Erica Komisar is a rockstar in her field with over 25 years in private practice and has a wealth of wisdom to share about the most important job in the world: Mom. I think this is an ideal baby shower gift, but even old moms can benefit from reading it. In my opinion, no mom should face motherhood without this book in her back pocket! 

I found it almost impossible to find time for self-reflection in early parenthood. I was consumed at all times by the urgent needs of the infant and toddler in my care. But when I read Motherhood: A Confession, I became self-reflective by proxy.

Using Saint Augustine’s Confessions as a literary companion, Natalie Carnes asks, What if one of the greatest texts about human nature were written not by a man but by a woman and a mother? Using the self-awareness that is a hallmark of Augustine’s memoir, Carnes shows us maternal love and its shadow side, inviting us to see, from the eyes of women, both the dark and luminous shades of the human condition.

This book describes the intensity of new motherhood so accurately that I was surprised to realize it was written by a man! It brought back memories of the newborn days with my own three kids, when I was drowning in exhaustion, anxiety, and breastmilk but also felt overwhelmed with joy and love. 

When the main character decides to step in and adopt a second baby—the child of her nanny, who dies in childbirth—we get to see how mothering is both the same and different when your baby doesn’t share your genes or even your skin color. I loved how the book doesn’t give easy answers to the sticky questions around transracial adoption but instead leaves the reader pondering. I read this one years ago, and I’m still thinking about it!

Mothers are too often blamed for their children’s and adult daughters’ problems. I regard Paula Caplan’s book as the quintessential text on understanding how patriarchy blames mothers and how mother-blaming harms mothers, women, and the mother-daughter relationship. Paula exposes the myths surrounding motherhood – revealing that there is no such thing as a “perfect mother.” 

Beginning in 1970, with “Up the Sandbox,” Roiphe was part of the first wave of shameless motherly truth-tellers. There are few more truer sentences than her acknowledgment that “feminism, despite its vast accomplishments, has not cured me of motherhood” in this poignant and prescient book about the impossible expectations that continue to bedevil working mothers.

The Part That Burns is not a linear narrative but a memoir in fragments. Each essay or chapter is different, interesting, engaging like scattered pieces of a puzzle that the writer—and reader—are trying to put together.

It's about a childhood wrought with abuse and rejection, about trauma and epigenetics, home and roots. It's about a girl who grows up to become a teenager who becomes a young woman who becomes a wife and a mother and every step of the way, she yearns for what we all yearn for: acceptance and love.

My memoir is as slim and sparse as Ouellette’s and some might consider my chronological story as fragmented because of its tiny chapters and missing connective tissue from one chapter to the next.