The Lindsay Clancy trial is about criminal responsibility, but the public conversation surrounding it is also about something larger: what we expect from mothers, how we recognize women’s psychological suffering, and what happens when those two narratives collide.
Clancy is on trial for killing her three children in January, 2023. Her defense argues that severe mental illness, including postpartum psychosis, rendered her not criminally responsible. Prosecutors argue that she understood her actions and planned the killings. The jury must decide the legal question.
As a therapist and researcher, however, I am interested in a different question: What do the discourses surrounding this trial reveal about motherhood and women’s mental health?
The Discourse of the “Good Mother”
Motherhood carries powerful cultural expectations. A “good mother” is imagined as loving, protective, patient, emotionally available, and willing to sacrifice herself for her children.
There is much less cultural space for a mother to say: I am overwhelmed. I feel disconnected. I am frightened by my thoughts. I do not recognize myself.
The Clancy trial exposes the tension between idealized motherhood and psychological suffering. Testimony has described a woman who had been considered a loving and involved mother while also experiencing significant anxiety, insomnia, depression, suicidal thoughts, and other psychological symptoms before the deaths.
These realities are difficult for us to hold simultaneously, because our cultural story of motherhood often assumes that maternal love should somehow protect a woman from psychological collapse.
It does not.
The Discourse of the “Monster” Versus the “Sick Woman”
When mothers harm their children, public discourse can quickly organize itself around two competing identities: the monster and the mentally ill mother.
The first creates moral distance. If a mother commits an unimaginable act, we may need to imagine her as fundamentally different from other mothers.
The second can become reductive in another way, explaining an entire person through psychiatric illness.
Neither discourse leaves much room for complexity.
A woman can love her children and experience severe mental illness. A person can demonstrate ordinary functioning in some moments and profound psychiatric symptoms in others. And acknowledging mental illness does not require us to minimize the devastating loss of three children.
Psychological explanation and moral or legal judgment are not the same thing.
The Discourse of the “Functioning Woman”
Perhaps one of the most important lessons emerging from the trial concerns our assumptions about what serious mental illness looks like.
Evidence presented at trial has included Clancy’s searches about hallucinations, psychosis, suicide, psychiatric medications, and mental health symptoms. At the same time, other evidence depicts ordinary activities and interactions.
This apparent contradiction is important.
We often assume that someone who is seriously psychologically unwell should look seriously unwell all the time.
But functioning is not the same as wellness.
Women, and particularly mothers, may continue caring for children, answering messages, attending appointments, working, planning meals, and managing households while experiencing significant internal distress.
Sometimes the performance of functioning becomes precisely what prevents suffering from being recognized.
When Maternal Distress Becomes Individual Failure
There is another discourse underneath this case: the idea that maternal mental health belongs primarily to the individual woman.
Did she ask for help?
Did she take her medication?
Did she describe her symptoms accurately?
Did she tell someone how bad things had become?
Those questions matter. But they can also obscure another set of questions.
How well do our healthcare systems recognize postpartum psychiatric symptoms? How effectively do providers communicate with one another? What happens when symptoms fluctuate? Do families know which warning signs require emergency intervention?
Reporting on the trial has raised questions about fragmented treatment and the difficulty of recognizing severe postpartum psychiatric illness.
Women should certainly be encouraged to seek help. But “ask for help” cannot be the entirety of our maternal mental-health system.
Someone also has to recognize the help being asked for.
Beyond This Trial
We should be cautious about turning one extraordinary and devastating case into a representation of postpartum mental illness. Most women experiencing postpartum depression or other mental-health difficulties do not harm their children, and sensational cases can unintentionally increase stigma toward mothers who need care.
That makes our language especially important.
The most useful question raised by this trial may not be whether Lindsay Clancy fits neatly into the category of “good mother,” “bad mother,” “monster,” or “mentally ill woman.”
Perhaps we should question why we need women to fit neatly into those categories at all.
Women’s mental health exists alongside motherhood, not outside of it.
If our cultural definition of a “good mother” leaves no room for rage, ambivalence, intrusive thoughts, exhaustion, disconnection, psychiatric illness, or asking for intensive help, then mothers may learn to hide precisely the experiences we most need them to disclose.
The tragedy at the center of this trial belongs to one family. But the discourse surrounding it belongs to all of us.
And it asks an uncomfortable but necessary question:
Can we create a culture in which a mother does not have to appear well in order to still be seen as a good mother, and in which saying “I am not okay” is treated as information requiring care rather than evidence of maternal failure?
