I stood at the school gate and recognised another tired mother by the way she smiled

Dear Delyara, There is a particular smile women do when they are holding a lot and still trying to look socially usable. Warm enough. Normal enough. Not inviting questions. Not rude. Not fully there. She did it. I did it back. Then we talked about ordinary things — weather, reading books, who needed new shoes, whose child had forgotten PE kit — while both of us looked like women who had been awake emotionally for much longer than the clock could prove. I drove home thinking how many of us are moving through public life like this, carrying invisible heaviness in very competent coats.