“Enjoy your mummy time” says my husband, as I leave for my weekly coffee. Hurt, anger and frustration bubble. I’m not heading out for mummy time, in fact, with two children and a husband who works away, weekly coffee with friends is the only time which is not mummy time. It’s when the real me, the woman with aspirations, humour, fear and opinions peels back the mask of motherhood and becomes authentic. I’m angry that this authentic woman feels the need to be masked, that my husband doesn’t recognise that the strong, independent, self sufficient woman he met has been replaced by someone who questions her value to anyone but her children. I am not a supermum, I don’t want to be. I’m a woman with vision, strengths and weaknesses, I want my daughters to know this. I want society to know this.