Growing up with a mother who lived through the turbulence of societal change, Joanna Delia – Owner and Aesthetic Doctor at People & Skin – carries with her not just memories, but a deep and sobering understanding of what it means to be a woman caught between generations.

In a heartfelt reflection, Dr Delia describes her mother’s generation as one full of “smart, capable and resourceful women” who fought tirelessly for progress. They paved the way for access to education, financial independence, contraception, and something as symbolic as the right to wear trousers or open a bank account. Yet, she notes with sadness, these hard-won rights were often abandoned once they entered motherhood.

“They worked and fought so hard to be seen and have a voice,” Dr Delia says. But in a paradox that many daughters of that era will recognise, the very women who raised independent, ambitious daughters often struggled when those daughters used the freedom they had been given.

Reflecting on her own upbringing, Dr Delia shares that she cannot remember any clear, motivational advice from her mother. “How sad is it that I cannot remember a word of inspirational or motivational advice from my mother?” she writes candidly, underscoring the emotional and cultural distance that still exists between many mothers and daughters of that era.

A young Joanna Delia pictured with her mother during her childhood

She describes this cohort as a “transitional generation” – the first to have opportunities and choices, “at least on paper.” Yet the reality, she suggests, was that these freedoms came with invisible strings. Mothers often hoped their daughters would succeed but simultaneously feared what that success would mean. Would society judge them for not becoming wives and mothers? Would independence lead to loneliness, failure, or public scorn?

Dr Delia recalls the tension many of these mothers lived with: “Women who bore us, raised us, pushed us, helped us with our homework, told us to reach for the stars, only to then have cold feet when we became free independent women.”

She adds, “only to fear that we would be judged if we did not tow the line and become wives and mothers. Only to fear for our well being when we dared to become entrepreneurs. Only to dig wells of anxiety for themselves when we found our voice.”

Yet, amid the contradictions, one piece of advice has stuck with her over time: “Always aim for the highest possible. For a 110. That way you will score a 100.” It’s a line that captures both the ambition and the pressure many daughters inherited.

Dr Delia closes her tribute with words of gratitude, recognising the difficult path her mother and so many others were forced to navigate. “Thank you mum. I appreciate the challenges you laid out for me. I know they are the fruit of your traumatic and tumultuous experiences – ones society tortured you with.”