What Your Mum Would Want for You
Even if your parents didn’t know how to teach you self-worth, it doesn’t mean they didn’t want you to have it. Maybe they were just doing their best to keep you safe, push you forward, and ensure you survived. But survival isn’t the same as feeling worthy. Worthiness? It’s in what you allow and what you walk away from.
Recent research reminds us that what we base our worth on matters. Some people find their value in appearance, achievement, or how others see them. But those who root their self-worth in their values—being kind, honest, generous and true to themselves—are generally happier and more grounded. Meanwhile, those who feel they must succeed in everything to be worthy often experience exhaustion and self-doubt. They’re giving too much, saying ‘yes’ too often, hoping to earn the feeling of being enough.
People? They’ll take your time, kindness, energy — and sometimes, even your sense of worth. I hope you’ll learn to say ‘no’. Not because you’ve become hard or selfish, but because you matter.
Even if your parents didn’t know how to instil self-worth in you, it doesn’t mean they didn’t want you to have it. Maybe they never had the tools themselves. Maybe they were too caught up in survival to teach you how to live. But if they could speak without fear or shame, I think they’d say: I wish you’d learn to live more.
The world constantly measures you by what you produce, how you look, or how well you perform, so it might seem a little delulu — to believe that you matter just because you exist. And maybe you have to be! To imagine a life wide enough, warm enough, to stretch into.
Because most people aren’t really thinking about you. Research from Robin Dunbar shows that, of the hundreds or thousands of people you might call “friends” online, only a handful — maybe four or five — actually care deeply for you. And the rest? They’re busy thinking about themselves. (Dunbar, 2016, New Study Proves Your Facebook Friends Don’t Give A F*ck About You).
Moreover, the “spotlight effect” reveals that people tend to overestimate how much others notice or think about them. This cognitive bias suggests that while you might feel scrutinised, most people are too preoccupied with their own lives to focus on yours.
So if you’ll live for anyone, let it be for you. As Thoreau wrote:
“I sometimes walk across a field with unexpected expansion and long-missed content, as if there were a field worthy of me… I say to myself: Yes, roam far, grasp life and conquer it, learn much and live.”
You don’t need the world’s permission to live like you’re worthy.
You don’t need everyone to care about you. You need a few. But most of all — you need yourself.
She would want you to rest.
Not just sleep — the deep, soul-quenching kind of rest that would finally come when someone would finally lay down the heavy armour. The world will always ask you for more. To hustle harder, to smile wider, and give, give, give…
Your mum? She wanted your head to hit the pillow at night in peace, not in pieces.
So let yourself be tired.
You don’t have to earn your rest.
Your mum might not have read Sylvia Plath, but here it is:
“No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself. When you let go of the frantic search for validation, you find yourself exactly where you are meant to be, with the tools you need to go forward. It is from this place of quiet assurance that the most beautiful things emerge.”
— Virginia Woolf, from A Room of One’s Own
She would want you to speak kindly to yourself.
Do you know that voice in your head that is always itching to tell you that you should optimise yourself? That you’re not doing enough, not thin enough, not strong enough, not disciplined enough, not smart enough, not worthy enough? Maybe your mum also heard it, but really, she would want you to talk to yourself like you were five years old again. The way she did when you were scared of the dark.
She would want you to know this: That voice? I know it. But it is not true.
You are worthy right now, as you are.
Not when you lose the weight.
Not when you get the promotion.
Not when thousands approve.
Now.
You are not a machine.
You’re a soul who needs music, connection, sunsets, laughter, and small pockets of joy.
Prioritise them like your life depends on it —
because it does.
She would want you to feel it all.
Grief. Joy. Rage. Wonder. Fear. Hope.
Not numbing.
But you hear around you: “Wine o’clock”, “just keep smiling”, and “don’t be so sensitive.” But those aren’t badges of strength — they’re signs humanity is struggling to survive.
Feeling the hard stuff doesn’t mean you’re broken.
It means you’re alive.
Your mum would want you to cry when you need to, and laugh so hard you snort when you can.
She would want you to feel your life.
She would want you to be brave — not perfect.
There is no gold star for getting life right. The people who matter don’t need you to be flawless; they need you to be. To be real. Vulnerable. Honest. Not always convenient…
Your mum would want you to keep showing up.
For your relationships.
For yourself.
Even when it’s terrifying.
Especially when it’s terrifying.
“You gotta have guts to live.”
— Sheryl Lee Ralph
And your mum would want you to have healthy guts.
She would want you to know that love was never conditional.
You didn’t have to earn it. Not by being the good kid, the smart one, the funny one, or the strong one.
Her love? It was already yours. Always.
And even if she couldn’t always show it the way you needed — I promise you this: she wanted more joy, freedom, and lightness for you than she probably ever felt allowed to have for herself.
So here’s the hard truth and the gift of it:
She couldn’t give you what she didn’t have. But you? You still can.
You can give yourself what she couldn’t.
You used to think that if you were kind enough, calm enough, and pretty enough, you’d be chosen — like self-worth was some cosmic lottery, and you just had to keep buying tickets. Looking back, you see you were delulu, in that sweet, soft, painfully human way we all are when we believe love will save us before we’ve learned to save ourselves.
So when the to-do list becomes your identity.
When you’ve forgotten how to want anything at all…
Come back to this:
What your mum would want for you — and what I would want too (!)— is the life you absolutely deserve.
“I want you to have the life you deserve. I love you.”
— Sally Malik, Being Human
Beautiful!