'Forget the mental load, there's a new term that explains why you're feeling so exhausted.'

If you want to support independent women's media, become a Mamamia subscriber. Get an all-access pass to everything we make, including exclusive podcasts, articles, videos and our exercise app, MOVE.

Picture this: It's 7am, and you're simultaneously packing school lunches, responding to urgent work emails, and mentally calculating whether you remembered to book that parent-teacher conference, while calculating how you can leave work at 1.45pm to see your child get an award at assembly.

Welcome to what economist Corinne Low calls "the squeeze."

As someone in their forties, who has had many cycles and eras of my career, had babies (now teenagers), and is divorced, I've often said "you can have it all, but not at the same time."

And this new term perfectly reflects that sentiment.

We're sick of hearing the terms 'burnout' and 'mental load' but Low's concept of "the squeeze" captures something more specific, and more hopeful.

Because it's finite.

Watch: Parents In The 80s Vs Now, a visual aid. Post continues below.

What exactly is 'the squeeze'?

In her new book 'Having It All,' Low describes "the squeeze" as that brutal period when maximum pressure at work, maximum pressure at home with young children, and the desire for personal fulfilment converge in a completely unsustainable way.

The squeeze occurs because women's most demanding career-building years — typically our thirties and into our early forties — overlap perfectly with our childbearing and intensive caregiving years.

It's like trying to sprint a marathon while carrying a toddler and a laptop bag. Quite literally.

Low's research shows women's work hours have risen, men's domestic input has largely stagnated, and parenting expectations have intensified.

Meanwhile, the old model that once worked (one breadwinner, one homemaker) has disappeared without being replaced by anything sustainable.

Both sides of the squeeze.

I just turned 42, and I feel like I'm in a rare position to see both sides of the squeeze. My children are teen and tween-aged and they still need me, certainly, but in different ways now.

The challenges and their needs aren't physical anymore, although the emotional and logistical needs remain intense.

But it's the physicality of early motherhood that's most relentless. Those trench years when you're paying for childcare that costs more than your mortgage, when someone always needs something right now, when your own needs disappear entirely.

But here's the plot twist: I'm divorced and share fifty-fifty custody. As a former primary carer for ten years, I have never had more time for my career and myself than I do now.

And I can see a direct correlation in my professional life. When I had babies, I worked part-time, I gave into the squeeze, reduced my hours, freelanced from the kitchen table.

Now I work full-time, plus freelance on top of those full-time hours (I am a single income earner living in Sydney, after all). I still feel the squeeze when I'm in it, but I get breaks from it.

Listen: "The squeeze" on Parenting Out Loud. Post continues below.

The uncomfortable truth about partnerships.

Before her book, Low went viral for an article in The Cut titled 'This Economist Crunched the Numbers and Stopped Dating Men' (brilliant headline).

Through both personal experience and research as an economist specialising in gender and household dynamics, she concluded that for many women, the realities of "having it all" are hindered by relationships with men.

Her research found that men in heterosexual relationships, even when unemployed or earning less, typically perform fewer household chores, placing disproportionate emotional and domestic burdens on women.

When she had her first child in 2017, despite being the breadwinner, she found herself taking on more than her fair share of domestic duties. Her solution? Divorce and become a lesbian.

Low's research also found that women's household workload decreased after divorcing men, while men's increased—showing that men are absolutely capable of sharing domestic tasks but often choose not to when there is someone there who will do it.

As someone who is divorced, I can absolutely say without a shadow of doubt that my domestic output has decreased dramatically. I live half the time completely on my own, with only my own mess, washing, and dishes.

Recently, after a longer stint than usual away from my kids during school holidays, my 13-year-old was unpacking the dishwasher when he pulled out a giant metal bowl.

"Did you vomit while we were away?" he asked. I confirmed I'd had a stomach bug on Monday.

"Why else would you use that bowl if we weren't here?" he pointed out. He wasn't wrong. As I comfortably stumbled back into the familiar hum of cooking a bolognese for dinner that night, it dawned on me: I couldn't remember the last time I'd cooked a proper meal. It was the last time I had my children. A far cry from my former life.

Of course, blowing up your life isn't feasible or desirable for everyone. Low suggests other approaches: having explicit conversations about domestic labour distribution, using data to show imbalances, and refusing to be the default parent for everything.

Some couples find success with alternating weeks of responsibility or dividing tasks by preference rather than gender assumptions.

The key is recognising that the squeeze isn't your personal failing, it's a systemic issue that requires intentional solutions.

Looking ahead: Learning from women further along.

One thing Low emphasises is this: before you throw in the towel on your career when thinking 'something's gotta give,' you need to consider what you want when the squeeze ends. Because it does end.

Low introduces the idea of looking to women who are further along as a way of learning and recalibrating expectations. It's not about imitation, it's about inspiration and strategic modelling.

She encourages women to observe other women's pathways, especially those who've built balanced or fulfilling lives, not as templates to replicate perfectly, but as data points for defining what "your all" could reasonably look like.

Her practical advice includes:

• Reject the myth of "having it all": Instead, aim for "having it almost" - a realistic equilibrium where priorities are chosen deliberately rather than dictated by social ideals.

• Reclaim time as a scarce resource: Marie Kondo your time, cut out low-value or expectation-driven tasks (like making everything look Instagram-worthy around the house) to preserve energy for goals that bring real meaning.

• Understand it's temporary: The squeeze has an expiration date. Your toddler won't need you to cut their food forever.

The career will ebb and flow.

Your career will absolutely ebb and flow once you have kids. Don't kick yourself if you're in the trenches, it gets better and easier. But always look out for and after your career, even when it feels impossible.

Low positions "the squeeze" as a wake-up call to challenge outdated expectations about gendered labour and success, transforming the conversation from self-blame to systemic understanding and intentional living.

And my parting words of wisdom? As that famous song from the 90s "Everybody's Free" reminds us: "Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse, but you never know when either one might run out."

The squeeze is real, it's hard, and it's temporary. But your career? That's for life.

Feature Image: Supplied.