09/08/2025
It was a sunny morning and I was heading into Fremantle town centre with my little girl. I decided to catch the bus in for a slower, easier way to get around.
I pushed the pram toward the bus stop shelter and sat down next to a young mum with two little toddlers in her pram.
It was only a matter of moments before I began to feel uncomfortable sitting so near. Her energy toward her kids was sharp and volatile.
“Shut the f**k up,” she yell-whispered. “You wait til we get home.” Each time one of her kids made a sound, they were met with a cutting retort.
I was in shock. My whole body felt tense and I was on high alert.
What do I do? How does one intervene in a scenario like this without pouring petrol on the fire or making it worse for those two little children when they get home?
She then lit up a cigarette and the threats kept coming.
I can’t sit here, I thought. I didn’t want my daughter affected by the energy or the smoke. Or me for that matter and I couldn’t stand the smell of ci******es.
I waited a few more moments and ‘casually’ got up and walked toward the timetable stand. This felt like a legitimate excuse to walk away without offending.
I stood there with a compelling pull to do something, yet I didn’t know what.
I said to myself, Universe, is it ok for me to go and talk to her?
I didn’t feel any contraction in my body. So, with a deep breath in, I turned and wheeled my pram back towards her.
Hi, I said.
She looked up and said hi.
Are these both your kids?
Yeah, she said.
God, I struggle with just one. It’s a hard gig, this motherhood business, hey?
Yeah, she said, it is.
She was much softer than before and almost grateful to have someone talk to her.
I’m a solo mum. Have you got the dad on the scene?
No, she said. Just me.
It’s so hard, isn’t it. We really do need a village. I bet you’re doing an amazing job.
She looked in disbelief, but again, grateful.
Our bus then pulled up. The ramp was lowered, and we both pushed our prams on.
As the bus took off, she crouched down, eye-level to her daughters, and began being loving and tender towards them.
Not in a performative way, but in a way that showed something inside her had shifted.
This story has stayed with me all these years because it had a profound impact on me.
My guess is this young woman didn’t have support, connection, care and love in her everyday world. Had these basic human needs been met, her parenting might look very different from what I first witnessed.
I’m under no illusion that this one moment would have created lasting change, but it showed me what’s possible when we look beyond behaviour for something much deeper.
It reminded me that we each have the power to impact another persons life in deeply meaningful ways. We just need to look for the need underneath the behaviour and meet them there.
We can do this for ourselves too. The more we learn to be compassionate with ourselves when we act out from our pain - we tend to a need for care and love. Being met with soul-honouring presence can shift our inner state in an instant. Overtime, it can be transformative.
When you catch yourself, or someone close to you in a pattern of behaviour, pause and ask: what need is underneath this? Then, see if there’s a way to meet that need, even in a small way. 🫂🩷
