By Artist, Emma Maggs
There is a familiar choreography to Mother’s Day.
Breakfast in bed arrives with the best intentions, usually a little earlier than you’d like. Handmade cards appear, slightly sticky with glue and full of pride. A bouquet of flowers sits on the bench, beautiful for a few days before life inevitably moves around it.
And while all of it is thoughtful and genuinely appreciated, if you ask most mothers honestly — without the automatic gratitude that tends to follow — what they actually want is far less aesthetic.
The answer: space and time.
They want a moment where they are not being asked for anything at all. Not in a dramatic, escape-from-life kind of way, but just long enough to feel like themselves again.
Recently, I gave myself exactly that.
I spent 48 hours at Bannisters by the Sea on the South Coast of New South Wales — a beautiful place with effortless luxury and the feeling of a cosy oasis. Whilst it is all these things, what stayed with me had very little to do with the setting itself and everything to do with what happened when I stopped doing what I always do.
From the moment I arrived, I made a quiet decision to stop managing everything. I let go of the instinct to plan ahead, to optimise my time, to make the most of the experience. Instead, I allowed myself to move through the day based on how I actually felt — something I realised I haven’t done in a long time.
I am a mother to a one-year-old and a four-year-old, and my default setting is to always be planning — schedules, nap times, meals, and the unfolding chaos after school pick-up.
Even when I am technically resting, part of me is still running in the background, much like the 50 open tabs on my laptop.
I found myself sitting on the couch in my suite, reading a book properly — not half-reading while listening out for someone calling my name — where the only thing distracting me was the glorious view and sounds of the ocean from my balcony.
As an artist, I felt my cup quietly refill just being in all the beautifully designed spaces — the layered textiles, the confident use of colour, the moments where things clashed and somehow worked. It felt vibrant and considered all at once, the kind of design that doesn’t ask for approval — it just exists and lets you take from it what you need.
I ate breakfast slowly while it was still hot. I took myself out for a date at Rick Stein and felt very good about sitting in my own company, enjoying my absolutely stunning meal and accompanying wine.
One evening, I ran a bath, poured a glass of Taittinger, and put on a romcom. There was a brief moment where I questioned whether it was a little indulgent, and whether I should be doing something more useful with my time. But after texting my best friend — who vehemently explained that it was exactly what I should be doing — I realised that instinct might be the problem.
So I stayed there and poured myself another glass. Because I could.
I spent time by the pool overlooking the ocean, watching a seal move through the water below, and for once I didn’t feel the need to capture it or turn it into anything. I simply watched it, which felt like its own kind of reset.
The spa experience stayed with me as well — not just because it was extravagant, but because it felt genuinely restorative. The space itself was open to the elements, grounded in natural textures and warm tones, and it encouraged a kind of stillness that I hadn’t realised my body had been asking for. I left feeling noticeably lighter, and my skin, quite literally, is still glowing.
What surprised me most, though, was not just the rest, but what followed it.
Once the noise settled, I found myself missing my family in a different way. Not from a place of overwhelm or exhaustion, but from a place that felt calmer and more considered.
It reminded me that stepping away is not about escaping your life, but about returning to it with more capacity and intention.
Recently, I spoke with Dr Tory Giles, who specialises in nervous system regulation and breathwork, and she mentioned something that felt both shocking and not, at the same time: many women experience postnatal depression, but far more are sitting in what she calls “functional postnatal depletion,” where they are coping, but not actually well or thriving.
She explained that when mothers are given space, they begin to return to themselves — and the effects are noticeable: more emotional steadiness, less reactivity with their kids, clearer thinking and decision-making, more stable energy, and better sleep.
It’s become clear that you don’t always realise how much you have been holding until you put it down, even briefly.
Of course, a coastal stay like this is not always realistic. Life is complex, support is not always available, and time away is not something every mother can access easily. But the principle itself is not about where you go or how long you stay.
It is about giving yourself permission to pause in whatever way is available to you.
That might look like an hour alone in your own home, a walk without interruption, or a morning where someone else carries the decisions.
It does not need to be elaborate to be effective. It just needs to be intentional.
So this Mother’s Day, accept the flowers. Enjoy the breakfast. Let the kids climb into bed and make a mess of it.
But if there is something more you can ask for, or quietly give to yourself, let it be this:
Time where you are not holding everything together.
Dr Tory Giles shares her steps to ease the mental load and cognitive stress
Come back to your breath
Your breath is one of the fastest ways to change how you feel and what nervous system state you are in. When you slow it down, especially the exhale, you’re signalling safety to the body and helping it shift out of that constant stress response. Even one or two minutes can make a difference, it’s like a reset button you can use at any point in the day.
Get morning sunlight early
Aim for 5 to 10 minutes of natural light within the first 30 minutes of waking, this helps regulate your circadian rhythm, supports healthy cortisol patterns, and improves energy, mood, and sleep across the day, it’s simple, but incredibly powerful for stabilising your system. And, it means you are actually doing something for yourself as soon as you wake up (instead of straight in to jobs for everyone else).
Do something that reconnects you to you
Not something productive, not something for anyone else, something that genuinely brings you back to yourself, something that brings you JOY. Whether that’s movement, time outside, music, or just a quiet moment, because when everything is output, eventually the system runs dry, and we need moments that actually restore us.
Meet Emma Maggs, an artist and the founder of her newest project, minibar — a travel platform exploring modern motherhood through a more considered, design-led lens. It shares refined stays and experiences with children, for them, and sometimes without them. Click here to discover minibar.
Discover Bannisters By The Sea
Learn more about Dr. Tory Giles
