Every Mother.

My Mum is an amazing woman, a total boss. There's no denying or doubting that. But without raining on her parade, she isn't the boss.

I could sit and list all the wonderful things she did for me as a kid, all the wonderful things she still does.

I could tell you all the ways I think she out-mums all the other mums. Sure, she's courageous, selfless, kind, hard-working... But none of those things makes her any more superhuman than any other mother.

The truth is, that's not what mothers need to hear anyway. For my own mum, she doesn't need to be put on that pedestal. If anything, it's just adding pressure to the load. And for the other mothers out there, they don't need to read about all the superwomen who are killing it every day. They don't need to hear about the extraordinary, the unique, the different.

They need to hear about the ordinary - The everyday mum.

The "answered the front door with my boob out" mum.

The "7 days straight of dry shampoo" mum.

The "chicken nuggets for dinner, again" mum.

The "forgot to shower today" mum.

The "my kid got naked and ran through target" mum.

The biological mum. The adoptive mum. The foster mum. The working mum. The stay-at-home mum. The single mum.

The mum who never got to meet her baby, or the mum who had to say goodbye too soon.

The brand new mum whose world has been flipped on its axis. Who is drowning in hormones, love, pain and pressure. Who is learning to embrace an entirely new existence while grieving the loss of her old one and feeling a new level of guilt as a result.

The mum who is barely holding it together. Who didn't know it was possible to feel every emotion on the spectrum all at once. Who is not sure how she will get out of bed and face another day because she is tired to her core.

The mum that knows what it is for her heart to exist outside her body. To have something she'd die to protect. Something she loves so much more than she could ever love herself. Something that will cause her to be the walking embodiment of 'selfless'.

The mum that doesn't recognise the person she sees in the mirror. Whose body no longer feels like her own. But who wears every mark, imperfection and scar with pride because she knows she has the body of a warrior.

The mum that has lost her identity for a while. Who misses her old life, her old success, while being willing to sacrifice it over and over for the truest love she's ever known. The mum who took a break from the 'real' world to nurture her own. The mum that will have to start over so many times and work her way back up and prove herself all over again.

The mum who cries alone at night because she doesn't feel perfect. Who doesn't realise that no one noticed all the ways she feels she didn't get it right. The mum who, if she could see herself how the rest of the world sees her, would realise her worth.

The mum who tries to do it all. Who tries so hard to wear the cape. The one who wears the fierce, indestructible, inexhaustible mask that society tells her she must. Bearing the weight of the world with a smile.

The mum that needs to sit down around a big round table, with all the other mums, with an endless supply of hot coffee (or wine), to talk about how they survived today.

There is no head of the table. It is a round, diverse table that seats equals. A tribe navigating their journeys as best they can and paving the way for those who come after them.

Because every Mother is a Boss.