Mums of the Hills Turns 10!
Author: Belinda Young
May 11th marked 10 years since I started Mums of the Hills — and fittingly, it fell on Mother’s Day.
It began as a simple Facebook group. I had two little kids, had recently moved to the hills, and was looking for local recommendations — a good café, a reliable plumber, maybe even a familiar face to wave to on the main street. But what I really craved, deep down, was connection. After years living overseas, I missed the kind of place where people knew each other’s names and helped without being asked.
Building trust online didn’t come easily. In the early days, I had to share my own stories — the messy, honest ones — to show people this was a safe place to do the same. I’ll never forget one of the first meetups I organised: I booked a big table at the Sooki Lounge for ten mums who’d confirmed. I sat there, smiling awkwardly at the waitstaff, saying “They’ll be here soon…” But no one came. I felt humiliated. But I also knew I couldn’t give up. I just hadn’t found the right way yet.
Since then, this group has grown into something I could never have imagined — and I often wonder how many babies have been fed, changed, soothed, or named thanks to the collective wisdom of Mums of the Hills. How many mums have found their people when they needed them most.
One of the earliest acts of kindness I experienced here was in 2015, just before a big event, when my own mum had a serious fall in Sydney. I posted in the group, and someone connected me with a makeup artist who could help hide the bruises. It was such a small but generous act. Later that year, when my mum passed away, this group quietly stepped in to help fill the space she left behind. That’s when I truly understood the heart of this community.
Over the years, we’ve shared everything — the hilarious, the heartbreaking, and the unexpectedly beautiful.
There was the mum who bought g-strings for the first time in six years, saying she’d stuck to comfy undies “out of respect” for her post-birth body. Another who stepped on a rusty wire in her thongs before school drop-off, limped across her cream carpet, bleeding, while her kids barely looked up from their Weet-Bix. And then there was the mum, in her sixth pregnancy and second trimester, who bravely shared her journey through IVF and multiple miscarriages so that others might feel less alone in their grief.
In 2016, when a massive gumtree crashed through a local home and narrowly missed two sleeping children, this group rallied in hours — the first of many calls for help we’ve answered over the years. You can read the full article here.
And during COVID, the group truly came into its strength. Elissa became our calm, trusted voice of reason, posting updates that cut through the noise. Osteopath Rebecca Lovett filmed support videos for pregnant mums. Yoko Hay helped members manage stress and anxiety. Behind the scenes, immunologists, police officers, lawyers, scientists and academics quietly offered advice and reassurance. We didn’t always know who was helping — just that someone always did.
That’s what makes this community so special: it’s not just a place to ask for help. It’s a place where help actually arrives.
Being a Mum of the Hills means more than just parenting in a tricky postcode. It means knowing how to laugh when everything goes wrong, how to ask for support when you’re at your limit, and how to show up for others — whether it’s with jumper cables, a meal, or just a comment that says “I see you.”
I’m putting together some stories to mark our 10-year anniversary — and if you have a funny, touching, or unexpected MotHs moment, I’d love to hear it. And if your connection to this group is more personal, feel free to send me a message.
Thank you for being part of this wild, supportive, beautiful thing we’ve built together. Here’s to the next 10.
Because even in the darkest night, we know the light is coming—and we know how to find it, together.