What ‘boss moms’ really want for Mother’s Day
At 4:30 a.m., a bus pulled out of Kingston, carrying seven mothers and entrepreneurs; some were still half-asleep, and all of them long overdue for a break. They weren’t headed to a conference, a networking event, or a carefully curated brunch. Their destination was Negril, and the plan was radical but simple: to take a ‘Boss Moms’ day off to do nothing at all.
This wasn’t just a getaway. It was a deliberate pause. A day without meetings, kids, responsibilities, or expectations. Just space to rest, laugh, and reconnect with themselves and others like them.
Handpicked by Michelle Gordon of the Boss Mom Network, the women came from different industries, but they all carried the familiar weight of showing up every day for everyone else, and rarely giving themselves permission to pause.
At the Ocean Cliff Hotel, the day off commenced, and that weight began to lift. Check-in came with welcome drinks and mini massages while they were served breakfast in pyjamas, with Prosecco and the conversation flowing from motherhood, ambitions, and the messy middle of it all.
There was no strict itinerary. A few women napped. Some sat by the pool. Others got their make-up done in preparation for a complimentary photoshoot to celebrate themselves, to feel good, feel seen, and feel beautiful.
For women accustomed to anticipating everyone else’s needs, that day became more than a refresher. It marked the start of stillness, of ease, of allowing themselves to be momentarily unneeded and being entirely at peace with it.
“It’s so hard to let go,” admitted Selena Mohammed-Wilson. “Even there, I was checking work emails. But then I caught myself. I saw everyone just being… and I wanted that too.”
By the time the bus rolled back into Kingston, most of the women had fallen asleep. One laughed that she snored for two hours straight, and another said it was the first time in years she’d felt truly rested.
And importantly, when asked ‘what do mothers really want’?
The common response was not flowers that wilt within days. Nor another coffee mug that reads ‘Supermom’. Not a crowded brunch, they had to organise themselves. They want what was offered on that quiet day in Negril: a break that asks nothing of them. Space to breathe. A soft landing. A reminder that rest is not indulgence — it’s essential.








