Whimsy Isn’t Just a Trend: Motherhood Taught Me to Prioritize It

At its simplest, whimsy is a playful, lighthearted way of moving through the world. A willingness to be delighted by small, ordinary things and to let a little fancy and spontaneity into everyday life. It’s the disco ball you hang for no reason, the detour to look at something interesting, the decision to make a routine task a little more fun. Whimsy isn’t about being childish or ignoring real responsibilities; it’s about intentionally making room for wonder, curiosity, and joy alongside them. Lately it’s had a moment online as #whimsy, but the idea itself is old. It’s the same capacity for play and imagination most of us had naturally as kids and tend to lose touch with as adults.

I didn’t fully understand that until I became a mom.

My two-year-old crouches down mid-walk to pick up a stick, studies it like it’s the most interesting object on earth and then carries it proudly for the next half mile. He stops to literally smell the flowers. He squeals at bubbles like they’re miraculous.

Watching him move through the world with that kind of wonder does something to me. Mundane things feel different – remarkable, even – when I witness them through his eyes. More alive, somehow. And experiencing life through his lens has been unexpectedly good for my mental health and wellbeing in a way I genuinely didn’t see coming.

It’s also made me realize that whimsy had quietly taken a back seat in my own life. So I started bringing it back intentionally and it’s made a meaningful difference.

Some of it happens through my son. We get soaked playing with the water hose. We eat Mickey Mouse-shaped pancakes for breakfast. We buy a balloon sometimes, just because. We pretend to blast off into space from his cozy rocket-shaped tent and marvel over the star projector that turns the ceiling into a galaxy at night. And on our neighborhood walk, we stop to say hello to a tiny village of elf figurines tucked along the path (it’s a whole thing).

But I’ve also been intentional about weaving whimsy into my own life, not just as a mom, but for me.

I started collecting bits of ephemera for junk journaling, such as ticket stubs, tags, little scraps from daily life. It’s creative and tactile and scratches an inner-child itch I didn’t know needed scratching. I bought a Hello Kitty shirt covered in rhinestones. I added bag charms to my purse.

I keep little decor pieces around our home that serve no purpose other than making me smile, like a disco ball that sends light dancing across the walls when the sun hits it, and Disney-themed magnets cover our fridge.

I write my to-do list on a pink typewriter. I collect mugs that are interesting or funny or just pretty. I started a sticker collection.

None of these things are big. But collectively, they’ve changed the texture of my days in a way that’s hard to fully articulate, except to say that my home and my routines feel more like me now, and less like I’m just getting through them.

Whimsy isn’t just a trend. There’s research that backs up why adding play and whimsy into your life can be good for your wellbeing.

Research published in Social Sciences & Humanities Open suggests it supports psychological health throughout adulthood, helping us connect, find joy, and regulate our emotions. It can build emotional intelligence, strengthen resilience, and generate more positive emotions, and some studies show those things compound on each other in really meaningful ways.

For me personally, prioritizing whimsy has made a noticeable shift with my anxiety. It’s helped me loosen the grip on worrying about things I can’t control. When I’m present in a silly, joyful moment (chasing butterflies with my son, writing out a grocery list on cute stationery, or gluing ephemera into a journal), I’m not spiraling. My nervous system feels at peace and that kind of grounding has felt so healing.

No, whimsy doesn’t fix hard things (life is going to life no matter what), but it can help create breathing room. So if you’ve felt like something’s been missing – some lightness, some color, some joy in the small moments – I’d gently suggest it might be whimsy. It doesn’t have to look like mine. It just has to feel like you.

This article reflects personal experiences and general information. It is not intended as medical advice or a substitute for professional care.