I want to tell you about Michelle.
She was French, had lived in Australia for 25 years. Happily married for 20 years. She and her husband were both successful, had a comfortable life. Her son was 19, had just moved out to start university — a nice kid, doing well, bright future.
By every external measure, she had everything. No crisis. No obvious reason to be in the room.
But she was there. And from the very first day she arrived, she served as an example — quietly, without even knowing it — of the trap that mothers fall into regardless of their circumstances.
Throughout the course, I ask everyone to do the same thing each morning. Go to the mirror. Not to check your hair. Not to brush your teeth. To actually see yourself.
Have a conversation with yourself. Look at the person in front of you. Acknowledge that they are a human being who requires care and attention. Set some standards. Decide how you want to be seen and treated in the world — and hold yourself to it.
Every day I would ask: did anyone go to the mirror?
Most days, nobody had. It sounds simple. It is one of the hardest things I ask people to do.
The resistance is the point. If you cannot handle the tension of having a conversation with yourself, you cannot expect the world to take your standards seriously.
On the last day of the course, Michelle came in and said:
"Alex, this morning I did what you've been talking about."
I asked how it went.
"I felt a bit silly. I walked over and looked up. And before I knew what I was going to say, these words came out of my mouth."
She pointed at the mirror. She said:
I told her I already knew how long she had been gone. We said it at the same time.
19 years.
I asked her how old her son was. She said 19.
I said: what a coincidence. Where have you been for the last 19 years?
She said: "I don't know. When I became a mum, that's who I became."
Now I am asking you to do it.
Tomorrow morning — or tonight — go to the mirror. Not quickly. Not while doing something else. Just go. Look. See the person there.
Notice what comes up. You might feel silly. You might feel nothing. You might feel something unexpected.
Whatever happens — write it down.