A FEW weeks ago, I joined some friends in a game called Ma Petite Planète (My Little Planet, also available in English). It’s a three-week eco-challenge where participants form teams and compete to complete as many environmentally friendly actions as possible. The premise is simple – by taking part in a series of small, achievable tasks – like reducing plastic, buying local food, cutting down on food waste and animal product consumption, cycling instead of driving, etc – you can ease your impact on the planet while learning to live more sustainably. It’s fun, engaging and full of great intentions.

And, according to the stats, it actually works.

On the website, they proudly share that 71% of participants feel more comfortable discussing ecological issues with their friends and family after the challenge, and 60% report adopting several eco-friendly habits in their daily lives. That’s no small feat. These challenges are proving that when people come together and have a bit of fun, they can make meaningful changes. But as I reflect on the game and its outcomes, something keeps nagging at me – it has made me fear what could be called the ecological load.

Let me explain. In theory, these eco-challenges sound great. They show us how easy it can be to switch to sustainable habits. The problem isn’t that these actions are hard to do – many of them are quite simple, and I’ve managed to incorporate some already and will probably keep most – but I can’t shake the feeling that, in the long term, this is just going to be more for me to think about and manage in the household.

READ MORE: Scots could get free electricity from zonal pricing, Octopus Energy boss says

As is the case for the vast majority of women in heterosexual relationships, I find myself in a pattern where I manage the kitchen, laundry and other chores. It’s not that we don’t talk about it or aren’t aware of it; we are very conscious of it. My mental load is not going away.

The mental load refers to the invisible, often exhausting effort it takes to manage a household. Even in homes where both partners are equally committed to doing their fair share, women disproportionately carry the weight of thinking about everything that needs to be done: making grocery lists, ensuring bills are paid, scheduling family appointments, keeping track of children’s activities – the list is endless.

This phenomenon has been studied extensively, and the results are clear – no matter how much a partner participates, in most heterosexual couples, women remain the “project managers” of the household.

So what does this have to do with Ma Petite Planète and ecological living? Everything. Because taking on an eco-friendly lifestyle means adding even more to the mental load that women already carry.

A few years ago, a French influencer named Coline, known for her commitment to ecological living, went viral after sharing her experience of “green burnout”. In a candid YouTube video titled I’m Tired Of Being Green, Coline explained how she had hit a wall: “I was fed up ... and at the same time, I felt terrible about it.” Her confession resonated deeply with her audience, especially other mothers. While some criticised her for abandoning her eco-friendly habits, many more expressed relief and solidarity.

Just Stop Oil campaigners hold a protest in LondonJust Stop Oil campaigners hold a protest in London (Image: Lucy North) The thing that worries me most is food prep. Don’t even get me started on food prep! Of all the things that contribute to my mental load, this one is truly maddening. It’s not that I don’t enjoy cooking and trying out new recipes, but the mental effort of planning meals, day in and day out, becomes even more complicated when I’m also trying to be mindful of various other parameters. I am not sure I will be willing to take on more.

Another part of the challenge focuses on reducing plastic consumption, which is something I need to improve. But living in the UK makes this so much harder than it should be. There is plastic everywhere. Literally everything is over-packaged – even fruits and vegetables that have no business being in single-use plastic bags.

Every time I walk into the supermarket, I’m faced with piles of unnecessarily plastic-wrapped produce, and it drives me mad. Why isn’t it just the rule that you can buy apples, courgettes, carrots, or whatever, individually without a plastic bag? If you need a bag, why can’t we make compostable ones the standard, as is already the case in France?

This brings me to the point that’s increasingly clear – if we really want to help people – and, let’s be honest, women in particular – embrace a more eco-friendly lifestyle, it’s going to take more than individual effort. At this point, nothing less than systemic change will do.

READ MORE: Kate Forbes slams high energy bills in Highlands and Islands

What worries me is that the green transition ends up reinforcing outdated gender roles. Historically, when families lived more sustainably – when they consumed less and made more at home – it was women who bore the brunt of that work. They cooked from scratch, grew their own food, mended clothes and managed household resources carefully. Today, we live in a world where both partners often work full-time, and yet the expectation for women to manage the home largely remains.

The burden of adopting a greener lifestyle is not just a matter of who recycles more or who shops locally. It’s about who is expected to plan for these changes, who is tasked with maintaining them and who absorbs the extra labour that comes with them.

Look, I don’t want to sound cynical or say that I don’t want to make any effort whatsoever. I truly believe that adopting more eco-friendly habits is essential, and I’ve seen firsthand, through Ma Petite Planète, how small changes can make a big difference. But yes, I think I speak for a lot of women when I say that I resent the mental load, and I will not take on more of it.

If we’re serious about making a green transition, we need a conversation – not just between individuals but on a broader societal level. We need policies that make it easier for everyone to live sustainably without adding to the mental load. This means investing in infrastructure that supports eco-friendly living – like making local, sustainable food affordable and accessible to all – and, at the same time, rethinking how domestic responsibilities are shared.

It also means addressing the structural barriers that make eco-friendly choices harder. Why is it that the most sustainable options are often the most expensive or time-consuming? Why is a train from Edinburgh to Paris three times more expensive than a flight, even though it’s far more environmentally friendly? These are systemic issues that can’t be solved by individual effort alone.

The merit of the Ma Petite Planète challenge is that it shows us what the green transition might look like in our daily lives. Maybe it’s not going to be as dramatic as we sometimes imagine. We often scare ourselves into thinking it will require a huge, life-altering upheaval – that we’ll have to go full Amish or revert to some caveman way of life. But the truth is, it’s not that extreme. Sure, there are new habits to pick up, and maybe we’ll eat a little differently, but it’s far from a radical regression.

However, if there’s one area where I’d like to see a more dramatic change, it’s in how we rethink the gendered division of labour. It cannot fall disproportionately on women’s shoulders. Women have been made to feel enough shame already for not doing enough, not being enough, and frankly, many of us are tired of it.

That’s a load we can’t afford to keep piling on.