Mother’s Day can hold many meanings... layered, tender, and at times, complex. In honour of that, we felt called to sit with a few mothers we deeply admire, and gently ask them about their journeys… not only in raising their little people, but in the quiet, ongoing unfolding of themselves alongside it.

These are not questions with perfect answers. They are invitations. To soften.
To remember. To honour. Because at its heart, motherhood is not just about who we raise… but who we become along the way.

LL. What has being a mother, taught you about yourself?
How little I know, but how largely the heart can love.

What is the thing you look forward to most about time with yourself?

Silence, to hear my own thoughts, create / write uninterrupted, unravel what often can’t be untangle in noise and movement.

LL. What has motherhood taught you about love that nothing else could?
I think motherhood reveals a kind of selflessness that isn’t sacrificial in the way we often speak about it. The layers of motherhood have taught me what I didn’t know I had, this inbuilt, almost instinctual knowing of how to move toward things outside of myself without much thought.

Not to say there aren’t still very human parts of me that want comfort, ease, self-protection, or to place my own needs first, I think that’s simply part of being human. But motherhood has shown me that something deeper and more instinctual exists alongside that. A kind of love that can immediately reorder priorities without resentment or negotiation.

I’m not speaking about mothers losing themselves, or the false idea that caring for yourself is selfish. I mean something more innate than that, the way maternal instinct can override our default pull toward self-preservation when someone we love needs us.

I’ve seen it deepen across different seasons of motherhood, but especially this past year, as our family has walked through some significant health challenges with one of our daughters. I can see that something within me immediately rearranged the order of importances. There was something maternal and fiercely decisive here. It was like, without discussion, I knew immediately what the season needed of me and how I needed to arrange myself. 

Not much else in life has shown me this fierce side of myself like Motherhood has. In an upside-down way, being a mother has brought me a lot of clarity. It has taught me how fiercely instinctual I am, how maternally built I’m created, for my family, for my daughters and it’s put everything in its rightful order of importance. 

LL. What does “living in love” look like for you in the everyday moments of motherhood?
An active prayer life and choosing understanding over my defaults—because my defaults can be strong. So love, in practice, is often choosing to listen instead of react, choosing to be present instead of somewhere else entirely.

It’s choosing to be inside my life, not bracing against it.

I wrote a poem about this:

“Tenderness has time here,

for I now know,

If there is not enough time to light candles in the evening,

I am living outside of my means”.

I’ve come to see that presence is everything and for me that means having a life that has margin. When I overfill our days, I feel it almost immediately—I move further away, I’m less patient, less able to meet my children where they are. But when there is space, something softens, I can feel what’s in front of me.

A slower life has needed to become an active discipline, not just a preference. It’s the map that allows love to actually take shape in our home. I am a better mother, a better lover, when my life isn’t crowded.

Over the years, I’ve become more protective of that space. If something comes at the cost of our wellbeing, it’s a no, as a quiet act of preservation.

I used to try and do/be everything. Now, living in love looks more like doing less, but being fully there for it.

LL. What has been the most unexpected lesson on your journey as a mother?
The most unexpected lesson has been realising that my children are not mine to shape, but mine to steward.

And part of that stewardship, especially with three sensitive girls, has been learning that I am also a protector of their imagination.

For me this has meant an attentiveness to what enters their world—the tone of conversation, the pace of life, the images, the language, the atmosphere of a room. Because I’ve come to see how impressionable their inner worlds are—and how formative these early years are.Their softness is not something I feel the need to toughen out of them. It’s something I want to honour, to guard, and to give room to grow strong in its own way.

So stewardship, for me, looks like tending to both the seen and the unseen. The practical rhythms of our days, yes—but also the invisible gardens of their minds. Creating a home where their imagination can remain expansive, where curiosity isn’t rushed, and where they feel safe enough to be fully themselves.

LL. Have you ever experienced a moment in motherhood that felt almost sacred or beyond words?
Giving birth to our twins, our homeschool journey (homeschool doesn’t even cover the word properly and all that this experience has entailed). More recently, the many conversations I have had with other mothers, in a season of pain and endurance, have felt sacred. 

LL. What has your child taught you about presence?
They’ve taught me that presence requires space.
When my life is too full, I’m harder to find.
They have made the word margin a fixture in my vocabulary and something to fight for.

LL. Where do you find yourself returning when you feel overwhelmed?
Prayer and conversation where defenses are not needed.

LL. How do you nourish yourself while nurturing others?
Small pauses that are sustainable, writing, my connection with other women (deep friendships), good food and allowing margin (this is a big one for me, I could write essays on the importance of margin in a woman's life). The repetition of this word—”margin” I wish it sounded prettier, but what it brings is magnificently beautiful. 

LL. What small rituals help you feel held?
Prayer, deep and curious conversation, in safe and trusted spaces. 

With Love,
@tessguinery and Loco Love x