There’s a question many working mums hear in passing, usually asked with a polite smile: “How are you managing it all?” Most of us answer with the safest line we can find — “I’m fine,” “We thank God,” or “We’re hanging in there.” But the truth behind those words is often far more complicated, far more tender, and far more exhausting than we ever let on.

Working mums today live in a reality that demands everything, all at once. We are expected to show up in the office like we don’t have children, and show up for our children like we don’t have jobs. It’s a double life that no one prepares you for. There’s the morning chaos: finding socks that match, wiping a spill on the kitchen counter, answering an email while trying not to burn the toast, and rushing out the door with a heartbeat already racing.

Then comes the workday. You sit in meetings and hope no one hears your stomach growling because you skipped breakfast. You solve problems for everyone else while quietly carrying your own. You catch yourself glancing at the clock, calculating how much time you have before school pick-up, traffic, dinner, homework, baths, and the thousand tiny tasks that make up a mother’s second shift. You want to be fully present at work, but part of you is always elsewhere — wondering if your child remembered their lunch, if the babysitter arrived, or if daycare has called and you missed it.

When mums say they’re tired, it’s not just “I need a nap” tired. It’s the deep weariness that comes from loving so many people and holding so many responsibilities that your own needs fall to the bottom of the list. It’s mental load fatigue — remembering birthdays, tracking doctor’s appointments, planning meals, signing permission slips, and being the emotional centre of the home even when you feel empty yourself.

Yet, somehow, mums survive. Somehow, we keep going.

Some days survival looks like a well-planned schedule and ticking off every item on your to-do list. Other days it looks like cereal for dinner and letting the laundry pile up because your body simply can’t push any further. Sometimes survival means crying in the shower where no one can hear you. Other times it’s stealing quiet moments — in your car, in the pantry, in the bathroom — just to breathe.

But survival is also made up of small, beautiful victories. A child’s hug at the end of a long day. A moment of silence after everyone is finally asleep. A promotion you worked hard for. A meal that turns out well. A smile from someone who appreciates you. The tiny reminders that you are doing better than you think, and that the work you pour into your home and into your career matters — even when no one says it out loud.

Working mums shouldn’t have to be superheroes to get through the day. But until society catches up with reality, mums will keep holding the world together with tired hands and big hearts.

So if you’re a working mum reading this, here’s the real question:

Not “How are you managing?” — but “Who is managing you?”

And whatever your answer is today, just know: survival is enough. You are enough.