What happens when your 4-year-old — the child who wouldn't tolerate a splash of water on his sleeve — goes feral with paint at Scouts, ending up covered head-to-toe and completely unbothered?

Why do we label our children so quickly — "he's not a messy play kid" — and then act surprised when they change?

If he can change this dramatically without announcement or permission, what does that say about us?

Ten years ago, I quit my job and went backpacking for three months. The traditional girl who followed the script — school, uni, good job — suddenly buying a backpack and going off-piste. I was in a dark place and needed change. Looking back, that's where the me who podcasts, takes risks, and asks for what she wants started to emerge.

Here's the thing about motherhood: it's a chapter we've never lived before. The old ways stop working. We have less time, new priorities, a child who needs us more than ever. If we keep doing what we've always done, we'll only end up frustrated.

But what if we dared to reassess? To challenge what we think is fixed about ourselves? To do the inner work, look at our labels, and give ourselves permission to change, pivot, try new things?

Maybe thriving in motherhood isn't about bouncing back or finding yourself again... but about becoming someone new entirely.