It's 10:47 at night. You just hung up with your mom for the third time today. She forgot she already asked about the pharmacy. She told you, again, that you never visit, even though you were there Sunday, Tuesday, and this morning before work.
And now you're sitting in the car in your own driveway, not ready to go inside, feeling something you would never say out loud.
You resent her.
Maybe you resent your brother too, the one in North Carolina who calls twice a month and asks why you haven't "looked into options." Maybe you resent the life you had a year ago. And right behind the resentment comes the guilt, because she's your mother, she's 84, and what kind of person feels this way?
A normal one. Let me explain why.
Resentment is a signal, not a character flaw
In my work with caregivers here in Florida, resentment is one of the most common feelings people bring in. It's also the one they're most ashamed of. Most people wait months before they admit it, even to a therapist.
Here's what resentment actually is: a signal that you are giving more than you have, for longer than you can sustain, without enough say in how it happens.
That's it. It doesn't mean you don't love her. It means something in the arrangement is costing you more than anyone is acknowledging, including you.
Why it hits so hard with a parent
Caring for an aging parent stirs up things that caring for anyone else doesn't.
The roles flip, and nobody agreed to it. The person who used to take care of you now needs you to manage her medications, her money, and sometimes her safety. Part of you is still her kid. Part of you is now her parent. Both are true at once, and it's disorienting.
Old history comes back to the table. If your relationship with your mom was complicated before, caregiving doesn't erase that. It puts you in a room with it every day. It's hard to be patient with someone who was rarely patient with you.
You're grieving someone who is still here. If she has dementia or is declining, you're losing pieces of the person you knew while still showing up for the person in front of you. That grief often comes out sideways, as irritation and resentment.
The load isn't shared. In many families, one adult child carries most of it. Usually the daughter. Usually the one who lives closest. The anger you feel at your siblings is often resentment that has nowhere else to go.
The guilt-resentment loop
This is the pattern I see most often. You feel resentful. Then you feel guilty for feeling resentful. To make up for the guilt, you do more: one more visit, one more errand, one more "yes." Doing more depletes you further, which creates more resentment.
Around and around it goes, until you're exhausted, snapping at your own kids or partner, and wondering why you can't just be grateful for the time you have left with her.
The way out of the loop is not to try harder to feel grateful. It's to stop treating the resentment as something to hide and start treating it as information.
What helps
1. Say it out loud to someone safe. Not to your mom. To a friend, a partner, a therapist. Shame shrinks when it's spoken. Most caregivers feel a physical sense of relief the first time they say "I resent this" and nobody flinches.
2. Get specific about what you resent. "I resent all of it" is too big to work with. "I resent that I'm the only one who takes her to appointments" is something you can act on. Is it the time? The lack of help? The way she talks to you? Each one has a different answer. If you'd like support sorting through it, [learn more about how I work with caregivers].
3. Separate what you can change from what you can't. You can't change that she's aging. You may be able to change who drives her to the cardiologist, how often you visit, or whether your brother pays for a home aide.
4. Set one boundary this week. One. It might be "I'll call at 6pm, not throughout the day." Or "I'm not available on Saturdays." A boundary isn't abandoning her. It's what lets you keep showing up without breaking.
5. Let yourself grieve. Some of what feels like resentment is grief wearing armor. You're allowed to be sad about who she used to be, and about the version of these years you thought you'd have.
You don't have to carry this alone
If you've read this far, there's a good chance you recognized yourself. That matters. It means you're ready to stop white-knuckling this.
I'm Denise Cummings-Fagan, a Licensed Mental Health Counselor in Florida. I work with adults who are caring for an aging parent and quietly falling apart while they do it. We work on the guilt, the resentment, the sibling conflict, and the grief, so you can keep showing up for your parent without losing yourself.
Sessions are online, anywhere in Florida, and I'm in-network with Aetna, Blue Cross Blue Shield, UnitedHealthcare, Optum, and Anthem.
[Book a free 15-minute consultation] and let's talk about what you're carrying.
