When my toddler is (finally!) In bed, I go downstairs, clean up the chaos of the living room, collapse onto the sofa, and do the worst thing any mother can do — I open up Instagram. Within a few minutes of scrolling, no matter how much I feel I’ve aced parenting that day, I feel terrible about myself. Especially when I compare myself to all the supposedly ‘perfect’ Mumfluencers or parenting advice accounts I follow (despite knowing better).
My new novel is all about the lies we tell about motherhood, and I really had to look at how the expectations given to new mums online differ from the actuality.
