Returning to work after being NEET: Motherhood, mental load, and finding your confidence again

There is a particular kind of courage in opening your laptop, looking at a blank CV, and trying to explain a gap that was never really a gap.

Because if you have been NEET (not in education, employment or training) for a long time as a mother, you have not been doing nothing. You have been doing everything. You have been running a household, carrying the mental load, and keeping other people alive and well. You have been making a thousand decisions a day, most of them invisible, and most of them urgent.

And still, when you think about returning to work, it can feel like stepping into a room where everyone else knows the rules. Even if you’re “lucky” enough to return to a workplace of the past, faces have changed and even the coffee maker is new. The confidence drop is real, and it is not a personal failure.

When you have been out of paid work for a while, confidence does not just dip, it can disappear. You might worry that your skills are out of date. You might feel like technology has moved on without you. You might read job adverts and think: ‘I used to be capable, so why do I feel like this now?’. That feeling is common. It is also deeply unfair.

Confidence is not only about ability. It is about repetition, feedback, and being in an environment where your effort is seen. Motherhood can be relentless, but it is not always affirming. You can do a full day of work and still feel like you have achieved nothing, because the washing is still there, the dishes are still there, and someone still needs you before you have even sat down. So, when you try to picture yourself back in work, your brain does not reach for pride, it reaches for fear.

The mental load does not clock off. Returning to work is not just about the job. It is about the planning that sits behind the job. Who is doing the school run? Who is covering PD days? Who is booking appointments? Who is remembering PE kits, birthday parties, and the fact that the fridge is empty again? Who is tracking everyone’s moods, needs and deadlines? Who will track my mood, needs and deadlines? Even when you have support, the mental load can still sit on your shoulders, because you are the one who has been holding it for so long.

We are also living through something new: in the UK, we are one of the first generations where working motherhood is the norm, not the exception, but the “recipe” for how to do it has not been written yet. Today, around three quarters of mothers are in work (ONS, Labour Force Survey, “Mothers in work” dataset), and the most common family set-up is now a two-working-parent household (ONS, Families and households / Labour Force Survey tables on working households, including couples where both parents are in employment). But our systems, our workplaces, and even our family advice have not caught up to that shift. 

Many of our mums either did not work while raising children, or worked in a world with different costs, different childcare options, and different expectations, so even with love and good intentions, they cannot always tell us how to juggle the school run, the bills, the mental load, and a career that still expects full focus. We are left doing what every first generation does. We improvise, we share tips with each other, and we carry the quiet feeling that we are failing, when really, we are building the playbook in real time.

That is why returning to work can feel like trying to carry two full bags with one hand. And when people say: Just get a job, it can land like they have not understood your life at all.

The hidden truth: you have been building skills this whole time

If you have been parenting through a long NEET period, you have been practising skills that employers say they want. You have been prioritising under pressure. You have been negotiating. You have been problem solving in real time. You have been managing conflict, managing budgets, managing routines, and managing yourself on very little sleep. You have been learning resilience the hard way.

The issue is not that you have no skills. The issue is that we do not have a good system for recognising them, naming them, and turning them into evidence. The fear of being judged can be louder than the fear of work. For many mothers, the hardest part is not the work itself, it is the feeling of being watched. The worry that someone will look at your CV and decide you are unreliable. The fear that you will be seen as “behind”, or “rusty”, or “too complicated” because you have children.

There is also a quiet, uncomfortable question that hangs in the air for so many working mums, even when nobody says it out loud: “Are you done?”. Not done with the job but done having children. It can show up as “friendly” small talk about your family plans, or as a sudden change in tone when you mention childcare, but underneath it is the same worry: will you be fully available, or will you take leave again? And because it is rarely asked directly, it is hard to challenge in the moment. Women learn to read between the lines, to over-explain, to soften, to reassure, and to carry the weight of proving commitment twice over, even though your right to privacy, and your right to grow your family, should never be treated like a workplace risk.

I understand why some businesses feel tempted to ask, especially when budgets are tight, the economy is rough, teams are stretched, and there are lots of strong applicants for every role. Hiring can feel like risk management, and employers want certainty. But that does not make it fair, or acceptable, to treat a woman’s potential pregnancy as a “cost” to screen out. It pushes the pressure onto mothers to prove they are safe to hire, instead of pushing workplaces to plan properly, share leave and cover fairly, and judge people on what they can do in the role.

And if you have had a tough time, if you have been dealing with anxiety, depression, trauma, or financial stress, that fear can become a wall. You might tell yourself you will apply when you feel more confident. But confidence does not arrive first. It is built by taking small steps and being met with dignity.

What returning can look like (and why it does not have to be all or nothing)

We often talk about returning to work as if it is a single leap, but for many mothers, it is a series of small bridges. It might start with a short course, or a skills refresher, or a volunteer role that gives you a reference and a routine. It might start with a part-time role that fits around childcare, even if it is not your dream job. It might start with a conversation with someone who can help you translate what you have been doing into language employers understand. It might start with one application, not ten. It might start with updating your CV, not sending it. Small steps count.

Start by writing down what you already do. Not the job title you wish you had, but the responsibilities you carry every week. Then circle the skills inside them. Planning. Budgeting. Communication. Time management. Problem solving. Conflict resolution. Care. Consistency. That is your evidence base.

Next, pick one skill you want to rebuild and practise it in a low-risk way. If technology feels scary, practise sending files, using a calendar, or learning one tool at a time. If confidence feels shaky, practise speaking about your strengths out loud, even if it is just to a friend. Then, choose a return route that matches your reality. If you need flexibility, look for roles that say part-time, term-time, remote, or hybrid. If you need confidence, look for supportive employers or organisations that value lived experience.

Have one honest conversation about the mental load. If you have a partner, family member, or support network, talk about what will need to change if you return to work. Not as a favour, but as a shared responsibility.

And finally, be kind to the version of you who is trying again. You are not starting from scratch. You are starting from experience. Returning to work after being “NEET” for a long time as a mother is not just a career move. It is an act of rebuilding, and you deserve a system, and a community, that meets that courage with respect.