A thunderous applause in a sea of excited parents as my younger son went up on stage to receive an award. Handed by the Chairman himself, this ESF Chairman’s Award for Outstanding Achievement is a fitting way to end the year, and 13 years of the ups and downs of school life itself. Four years ago my older son received the same award, recognised for Outstanding Academic Achievement. Both times, I felt fiercely proud.
I am a mum. I am also a mental fitness coach. And those two parts of me see this moment in very different ways.
The mum part: I was there.
Let me say it simply: I was there. Not by doing their homework for them. Not by pushing them until they broke. But by showing up, day after day, in a thousand small ways.
I made breakfast, packed lunches. I was there to listen to worries that felt huge to them. I dropped them to school, to activities, to friends’ houses. I sat with them when they felt low. I cheered when they tried again. I held the line on bedtime, on kindness, on effort.
So when I see these two awards sitting on the table, I feel something rise in my chest. It is not about claiming credit. It is about knowing I played a part. And that feels good.
The coach part: The ‘high’ does not last.
Here’s the turn: as a mental fitness coach, I know the “feel-good” hit of an award is short-lived. The mind quickly whispers, “Now prove it again.” I’ve lived that script—from school competitions to corporate leadership to building a community for mums in business. The thrill fades. The expectations rise. The treadmill speeds up.
I have been the child winning every competition. I have been the adult chasing the next target. I know how fast the mind moves from “I did it…yeah!” to “What’s next?” We tie our worth to outcomes. We measure our days by external wins. We forget to ask: who are we becoming in the process?
The awards I do not talk about
I have my own awards. Some are framed. Some are not. I have certificates from coaching programs. I have emails from women who say, “You changed my life.” I have a community of mums who show up for each other every week.
But I also have days when I feel like I am not enough. Days when I wonder if I am doing anything that matters. Days when the silence feels louder than any applause.
And I know other mums feel this too. The stay-at-home mum who wonders if her work counts. The working mum who feels pulled in two directions. The mompreneur who is building something from scratch while raising humans. We all have moments when we ask: is what I am doing enough?
So I’m choosing a different finish line. I’m celebrating my sons’ effort and character more than their certificates. I’m celebrating my own consistency, compassion, and courage as a mum—whether or not there’s a trophy to show for it. Because the award that matters most in our home isn’t handed out at a ceremony. It’s the quiet, daily choice to show up mentally fit: present, regulated, and kind—to our children and to ourselves.
What does that look like in real life?
It looks like noticing when my mind is racing and taking three deep breaths before I speak. It looks like saying sorry when I get it wrong. It looks like asking my sons, “How did you feel today?” instead of “What did you achieve?” It looks like letting myself rest when I am tired, instead of pushing through to prove I can handle it all.
It looks like teaching my boys that their worth is not tied to their grades, their awards, or anyone else’s opinion. It looks like showing them that success is not just about what you win. It is about who you are when no one is watching.
Here are some awards I wish we all celebrated more:
– The mum who stayed calm when her child was melting down in the middle of a supermarket.
– The mum who raced around with her child in the playground when all she wanted was a quiet coffee.
– The mum who taught her child to forgive mistakes, try again, and keep going until they got it right.
– The mum who forgave herself for a bad day and tried again tomorrow.
These are the awards that build resilient humans. These are the awards that last.
If you are a mum reading this, I want you to know something: you are allowed to feel proud of your children’s wins. You are also allowed to feel proud of your own.
You do not need a certificate to prove you are doing a good job. You do not need applause to know you matter.
That’s enough for today.
Leave a Reply