She didn’t choose to flee her home.
She didn’t choose to gather her children in the dark and run: from war, from persecution, from a government that wanted her family dead, from militias that burned villages, from bombs that fell on schools, from the kind of danger that makes a leaking boat in open water seem like the safer option.
She didn’t choose to have her children ostracised, attacked and forced to flee home and family because of their sexuality.
She didn’t choose years of living in limbo… in camps, in temporary shelters, in bureaucratic purgatory… while the UNHCR processes and defers, while her children grow up without permanence, without a future they can count on, without a place to call home, or a community to call village or family.
She didn’t choose to have her case ignored, delayed, or denied by nations that speak of compassion and practise indifference.
She didn’t choose to flee to countries in Europe or Australia, only to be met with suspicion, hostility, and hatred… told she is a burden, a threat, an inconvenience… by people who have never had to choose between danger and dignity.
She didn’t choose to live under the shadow of forced deportation: to watch governments like the current United States administration tear families apart and send people back to the very dangers they escaped, caring nothing for what awaits them there.
She didn’t choose to watch her children go hungry in refugee camps stripped of funding, camps where foreign aid was cancelled, where food ran out, where clean water became unavailable, where medicines disappeared, because powerful men in powerful countries decided her children’s lives were unimportant.
She didn’t choose any of this.
She chose only to fight against all odds to keep her children alive; to keep going when everything said stop.
She chose to love fiercely in conditions designed to break her.
On Mother’s Day, we celebrate the mothers we know and love. But let’s also hold space for the mothers we never see: the ones at the edges of our world, carrying the unbearable with grace we will never be asked to find.
They are mothers too.
This Mother’s Day, consider supporting organisations working with refugee families and those most at risk:
- Amnesty International Australia — advocating for human rights and refugee protection
- Rainbow Railroad — helping LGBTQI+ people escape persecution and find safety
- MAREPA — providing emergency shelter for LGBTQI+ refugees in Nairobi, Kenya
©2026 Geoff Allshorn. I show my respect for Elders past and present and acknowledge the Wurundjeri-Willam people, the Traditional Custodians of the Land on which this blog was prepared. Some editorial/research assistance supplied by Claude AI.
Thank you for this. This piece provides serious food for thought. On days like this – and on all other days, of course, we must make a point of remembering *all* of the mothers – not just those that are sitting safe and sound in their homes, being visited and lauded by loving children. Wishing peace and hope to them all.
Thank you for reminding us of our privilege and our moral duty to help others. Please keep speaking up for those who cannot speak for themselves.
Beautifully written Geoff. Thanks to all the mothers all over the world.
Nice work Geoff, and an important message. Puts our “cost of living crisis” in perspective.