In Seen Again, you describe matrescence as a biological, psychological, emotional, social, and spiritual transformation that can leave women wondering, Who am I now? Why do you think so many mothers silently feel invisible during this season of life?
Many mothers feel invisible during matrescence because their whole world shifts, and the markers that once made them feel like themselves – the things they felt seen for and valued themselves for – may no longer be active in their lives. This experience is shaped by systemic and social forces as well as being an individual one. Invisibility is not only about your wants and needs being overlooked by others; it can also mean losing sight of them yourself. There seems to be no space to acknowledge them, explore them or bring them into the light. A lack of knowledge about matrescence contributes to that feeling.
Feeling invisible can also be like existing parallel to the old version of yourself. You no longer quite recognise yourself in your old self-image but you haven’t yet embodied your new one. You’re in this in-between place where it can feel as though you’ve fallen through the cracks where the light doesn’t get in. There’s also so much focus on our children and on who we are in relation to them that who we are as a person can begin to feel less important, perhaps even irrelevant in some settings and conversations.
Throughout Seen Again, you return to the idea that motherhood does not erase us, but reveals us. Why do you think so many women quietly lose connection with themselves during motherhood?
Women lose connection with themselves during motherhood for several reasons, including a lack of understanding and acknowledgement of matrescence and the profound changes they’re experiencing. Without that knowledge, it’s easy to feel lost, unseen and off track. We reconnect with ourselves by making the space to reflect and listen to our inner wisdom, and by connecting with our values and what helps us feel like ourselves outside of mothering – even in the smallest of ways. These are the things that light us up, bring us joy, draw on our unique gifts and make us feel whole. When our whole world changes, the time and capacity to create that space can diminish significantly, becoming another barrier to connection.
Our connection to ourselves is also strongly related to the way we see ourselves and how closely our reality matches the self-image we hold in our minds. If we recognise some part of ourselves in that picture, or sense that we’re moving towards it, we tend to feel more connected to who we are and who we’re becoming.
We feel most connected to ourselves when we’re tapped into a sense of self that aligns with where we are now, while also having the opportunity to explore where we’re going next.
You explore the pressure of the supermum ideal, perfectionism, and the rulebook women carry about being a good mother. What conversations do you hope women begin having with themselves after reading this book?
There are many, but top of mind is my hope that women will take the time to reflect deeply on the question: What does it mean to me to be a good mother?
Responding to that question reveals the ways in which we’re holding ourselves to a rulebook and a standard that we may not even be consciously aware of.
I hope that, once they become aware of the invisible rulebook they’re carrying around, they feel empowered to make changes – to rewrite the rules and reimagine a different set of expectations that feels more like their own and is ultimately more empowering. As they reflect on those rules, I hope they’ll then ask themselves, Whose rules are these anyway? It’s a powerful question to explore for every “good mother” rule we hold. Often, we discover expectations that have been passed down or inherited from someone or somewhere outside ourselves. We explore this not for the sake of judgement or shock, but because we may begin to recognise that the rule was never truly ours. Once we see that, we have a choice: we can accept it, reject it or rewrite it.
I also hope mothers begin speaking to themselves more kindly. That they adopt more of a “good enough mother” approach and trust that is enough. There is no such thing as the perfect mother or the supermum. We’re all simply doing the best we can in any given moment.
The imagery of light, darkness, embers, and tending the inner fire runs throughout Seen Again. How did those images become part of the language and structure of the book?
The imagery of light came about for two reasons. Firstly, one of the core premises of Seen Again is the duality of matrescence and recognising that we cannot truly know light or dark without the other. But it’s also not that black and white; there are shades of both. The book is structured around emotions, moving from what might be perceived as darker emotions such as shame, grief and rage, through to lighter emotions including joy, love and gratitude.
Alongside that, the inner campfire metaphor and framework grew from my work with mothers and the idea that we are never truly lost; we’re simply walking in the wrong direction. This led me to think about how, when we feel lost, life can feel dark and cold. When we feel aligned and connected, there is light and warmth.
For me, this came to mean that the further we move away from our inner campfire – what I think of as our true self – the less visible we become to ourselves and the more we feel like we’ve lost our way. I’ve also heard countless mothers say, “I’ve lost my spark,” and I felt the same in 2018, when the Seen Again story began. Through my work, I came to understand that our fire never truly goes out; it may simply be smothered by the weight of everything we carry or reduced to glowing embers awaiting oxygen and care. The imagery of light, fire and illumination has therefore been woven through my work for years. Seen Again was where those ideas finally came together as a clear framework.
There is a strong sense of place woven through Seen Again — the Australian landscape, rural life, stillness, isolation, and distance. How did living and mothering in rural Australia shape the emotional world of the book?
Living and mothering in rural Australia shaped the emotional world of Seen Again in profound ways. Rural motherhood is often characterised by both incredible connection and isolation. There is a deep sense of community, generosity and people showing up for one another, but there can also be vast distances, limited access to support and an expectation that you simply keep going. Living in regional and rural communities also immersed me in stories that may have looked different on the surface but shared the same emotional threads. Whether a woman lived on a farm, in a country town or in the city, the longing to feel seen, the questioning of identity and the complexity of matrescence were remarkably universal.
I also think the landscape itself shaped the book. Rural life has a way of drawing your attention to seasons, cycles, light, weather and the natural world. Looking back, it’s no surprise that the imagery of campfires, illumination and returning to ourselves became the language I used to describe the inner experience of motherhood.
Perhaps most importantly, living rurally reminded me that while motherhood can feel lonely, none of us are meant to navigate it alone. That belief is woven throughout Seen Again: every mother deserves to feel seen, supported and held, no matter where she lives.
Alongside the themes of motherhood and identity, there are also themes of creativity, longing, and self-expression throughout Seen Again. Why are they important for a woman’s psyche and life?
Creativity, longing, desire and self-expression are important to women’s psyches because they connect us to a sacred and sometimes untapped part of ourselves. It’s a part that can become neglected, left behind or overlooked when a caring role becomes the most dominant role in our lives.
Some mothers may have identified strongly with these parts of themselves before having children, perhaps seeing themselves as a creative person. Others may firmly believe they’re “not creative.” My belief is that we’re all naturally creative. Creativity is intrinsic to who we are, but we may lack the confidence or opportunity to express it. That expression looks different for everyone. What feels creative for me won’t necessarily feel creative for someone else.
Life can become highly methodical, repetitive and cyclical in motherhood, and our own needs can drop down the hierarchy. Finding ways to reconnect with what we truly long for, our innate creativity and some form of self-expression help us feel alive, individual and connected to ourselves again. It connects us to a part of ourselves that we may have forgotten or perhaps never had the opportunity to explore.
Reconnecting with my own creativity through writing was a turning point when I felt lost. Even now, I notice the difference in myself when I’m not making space for creativity. It’s one of the ways I stay connected to who I am beyond the roles I hold.
I’ve come to see creativity as more than a hobby or a luxury. It’s essential. I’ve seen the power of what happens when mothers lean into their creativity. It can be an antidote to some of what we struggle with in modern motherhood.
Seen Again brings together personal reflection, cultural insight, and the stories of other women navigating matrescence. What did these shared experiences show you about what mothers are carrying silently?
The stories shared by the women who contributed to Seen Again reminded me of something we generally know but can so easily forget: you never truly know what someone is carrying beneath the surface. Some of these women I’d known for years, yet they were holding experiences, emotions and stories that they may only have felt safe sharing when given the opportunity. It reinforced for me that many of us experience common emotional threads throughout matrescence and that hearing another woman’s story can resonate deeply with our own.
At the same time, it was a powerful reminder that we can never make assumptions. While there may be shared experiences, every woman’s story is unique. Each contributor expressed her experience in her own way, offering a different perspective and way of making sense of motherhood. I learned a great deal simply by reading and sitting with their stories.
The experience reaffirmed for me the power of storytelling, self-expression and of allowing people to write in their own words. Matrescence is both universal and deeply personal. There is so much power in creating space for women to use their voices and have their experiences witnessed.
Seen Again is an invitation to return to the inner campfire, where the dark is honoured and the light reclaimed. What do you hope readers carry with them after they reach the final page?
What I hope readers carry with them after they reach the final page is whatever they most needed from the book.
That might be just one message or one idea that stays with them – one concept that offers a different perspective on their experience of matrescence and subtly shapes the way they think, the choices they make or the way they see themselves. Sometimes that’s all we take from a book: one small idea that stays with us and quietly influences us long after we’ve finished reading. I hope every mother feels seen in these pages. And I hope that, by the end of the book, she sees herself in a different light.