Mother’s Day is just around the corner — a time to celebrate motherhood and show appreciation. It’s also a time to reflect.

For many women, motherhood is their greatest joy and toughest challenge.

But in the constant juggle of responsibilities, even our best efforts can leave us feeling like we’re dropping a few plates.

Being a rural mum on a farm today differs from a generation ago.

Many of us were raised by mothers who were full-time homemakers, dividing their time between children, household duties, and community work.

Today’s rural women are expected to do all of that — plus contribute financially, whether on the farm, off it, or both.

Rural schools, often a long drive away, are smaller and rely heavily on parents for fundraising, working bees, and classroom help.

There’s an unspoken expectation that rural mothers will always be available —

something urban schools don’t demand to the same degree.

Balancing traditional roles with modern expectations is further complicated by geographical isolation and the weight of invisible emotional labour.

Isolation means fewer childcare options, limited access to mental health services, and fewer career paths.

Women who had professional careers before moving — or returning — to farms often put those careers on hold, only for them to disappear altogether under a pile of school lunches and dairy calves.

Those whose work is on-farm face different pressures: guilt over trying to farm with toddlers in tow or being forced to leave them at home unattended long before it is really safe to do so.

And when the farm gets busy, children can feel like an afterthought — not because they’re unloved, but because their mums are stretched impossibly thin.

Add to that the lack of peer support — no nearby coffee group, no gym class to decompress or vent -and it can be a lonely place.

The mental health struggles aren’t always obvious.

Often, they’re a slow accumulation: burnout, identity loss, the quiet ache of feeling unseen.

Rural mothers are project managers, emotional anchors, financial planners, and often unpaid contributors to farm businesses.

When times are tough on the farm, they are the sounding boards.

Their labour keeps both families and farms running — but it’s rarely recognised in economic or political discussions.

We need better access to mental health care, flexible career pathways, and real childcare options.

And more than anything, we need a voice.

Yes, organisations are advocating for rural women.

But too many are siloed by sector or still rooted in cake stalls and knitting bees — more relatable to our mothers or grandmothers than us.

It’s time to start truly listening to rural mothers.

It’s time they were heard.

By Claire Inkson