🌿 Legacy in Layers – A Blog Series. The Guilt

A journey through motherhood, guilt, healing, and grace.

🧵 Part 2 – The Guilt That Followed Me

“Guilt isn’t a guide. Grace is.”

How much giving is too much giving?

If you missed Part 1 of this series, you can read it here: Legacy in Layers: A Blog Series. From Mother to Matriarch

“Go home,” my boss once said.  “You work too hard.”

How often do we hear that?

I remember working late one night, eyes burning from exhaustion, while thinking about the shoes I couldn’t afford growing up.  That was my drive.

That was my why.  My motivation was to never have to run out of bread — or anything — mid-month.  My motivation was to do better.   In essence, I didn’t want a re-run of my childhood.  My aim was to shield my children — at all costs — from the trauma I’d been through.

But…

Well actually — that’s not even true.  My boss was not that considerate.  Because as long as you’re willing to give, people will keep their hands stretched out… wanting more, expecting more, taking more.

In those late nights — staying behind to finish my work, trying to hold the department together — I was absent where it mattered most.

What I didn’t realise back then… was that in giving my children everything I never had,
I was sometimes giving them less of me.

The intention was right.
But did the means justify the end?

Consider your own life – does the means justify the end in your life?  What’s going to matter most in five, ten, fifteen, twenty years when you can no longer make a cup of tea for your boss – let alone for yourself?

Pause.  Breathe.  You’re allowed to reconsider what “enough” really means for you.

I was present in the bills.
Present in the fridge being full.
Present in the paid school fees and new uniforms.
But I wasn’t always present in their lives.

And the guilt…
It came quietly at first—like a whisper I didn’t have time to listen to.

“They’ll understand one day,” I’d tell myself.
“This is for them.”
“I’m doing the best I can.”

And maybe I was.
But it didn’t stop the ache when I realized I’d missed more than just birthdays or school events.
I’d missed moments I could have had, helping with homework.
Moments they needed a hug yet all I wanted to do was jump into bed and rest just enough to ‘rinse and repeat’.
I missed moments they had questions but I was too disengaged to respond lovingly.
Moments they looked for me and saw… an empty room.

💭 There’s a certain kind of silence that follows a parent when the house is full but the soul is tired and empty.
I know what it’s like to be in two places at once—physically here, emotionally solving tomorrow’s problems and dealing with yesterday’s pain, hurt and letdowns.

I carried guilt like a second skin.

Not because I was a bad mother but because I was caught between raising myself, being a mother, a good employee, a good provider and a generous friend.
Most often we are expected to be good women trying to survive in a world that demands that we wear a cape, a crown, carry and feed the babies, and still clean the floors.

We don’t ever stop loving our children.
But we do sometimes forget how to show it in ways that matter more than simply providing.

 

📿 What I’ve Learned About Guilt
Guilt is sneaky.  It waits until the noise fades and you’re finally alone then it consumes you.
It will ask:

“Where were you?”
“Why didn’t you see how much they needed you?”
“Would they have turned out differently if you’d been there more?”

“Was it not your duty to have more faith, to trust God?”

But here’s the truth:  Guilt is not my guide.  Grace is.  God’s grace is my guide.   Jehovah Go’el is my Redeemer.

Let’s learn to give ourselves the same grace we give everyone else.
Because no one taught us how to balance provision with presence.
No one told us that building a future sometimes costs us pieces of the now,  BUT… we CAN Do Better.

We can break generational curses.

And now that I’m raising grandchildren—my second chance, my sacred assignment—I see them differently.  I’m softer now.  Slower.  I listen more. I show up with intention.

Truth be told — when I first found out my daughter was pregnant, I was upset.
Not because I didn’t love her.   Not because I wasn’t willing to help.
But because I was tired.
I had given so much, for so long… and in that moment, I just wanted a season to myself.
A season to breathe.  To no longer be needed by anyone else.

I felt selfish — but I also felt human.
I had just started to imagine what life might look like without constantly having to provide or pour.

But God…
God had other plans.

He wasn’t finished with me.  In His grace, He gave me a second chance — not just to care for a child,
but to be present this time.   To get it right.

And I did grow into it.
It took time, surrender, and a shift in my spirit.

But today, I can say this with peace in my heart:
I’m a better grandmother than I was a mother.
And for that second chance, I am truly — deeply — grateful.

Remember This:  Guilt doesn’t serve you.  Refer to the  consciousness map below, to detect where you are in your journey in relation to God.

I urge you to read through my post here:  🌿Drawing Near to God in a Distracted World

 To the woman who’s reading this with your own ache;

Do your best with what you know, with where you are, with who you are.
Love the best way you know how.
We are still growing into the mother, the matriarch, the guide we were always becoming.

Most of all – Do it with Jehovah El Roi-the God who see your pain, your journey, your joy.

Let grace carry what guilt never could.

📖 Next → Forgiveness

 

🌸 Coming Soon: My Vow of Silence – A Spiritual Journal
If this post stirred something deep within you,
I’m humbled to share that a journal is on the way.

It’s called My Vow of Silence — a 40-day journey of spiritual stillness, healing, and holy reconnection.
It’s designed to help you sit with God, hear more clearly, and return home to yourself.
Stay close. It’s nearly ready. 🕊️✨

💌 Need someone to talk to?
If this post spoke to your heart or echoed your own walk with God, I warmly invite you to reach out.
You can leave a comment below or email me directly at books@eugenemarillier.com —
I’d be honoured to listen, pray with you, or simply hold space for you.

Please note: I respond personally when I can, but even if I can’t reply immediately,
I’m holding space and praying for those who reach out. 🕊️

With love always,
Eugene Marillier
🕊️🌿