I was out running with a friend, darting through slippery wet mud that splattered up our legs; tiptoeing over miniature swamps; diverting our path to avoid the parts that had been swallowed by the rising river. The conversation was deep, as it often is, and turned to motherhood. She said something so kind about me, as a mother, and what I’m like with my kids. And it made me realise how rare it is to be told in a genuine way that you are doing a ‘good job’ of motherhood. I can easily list my career accolades but what I’ve ‘achieved’ as a mother is both less valued and less clearcut. And yet my friend’s kind comments were the words of affirmation I’d long been craving without really knowing it.