Mom Gossip: Sheila by Maya

"That's the simple truth — sometimes you just have to do it."

Oct 02, 2025

Welcome back to Mom Gossip, a column celebrating the women who shape us. So far, we’ve explored homeopathy, transcendental meditation, and throwing the perfect dinner party. If you’d like to interview a mother in your life, get in touch here.

Mom Gossip: Sheila by Maya

My mum’s name is Sheila. She lives on a farm in Scotland and runs a pop up cafe called Whoopie Bakes! twice a week in a greenhouse. She’s so cool and the most prolific baker you’ve never met. Whenever I’m in town I get to help her with the cafe, washing dishes, taking orders, reheating quiches and slicing cakes. I get to chat to her regulars (who always know all about my life) and watch her light up as people experience the euphoria of a perfect cake, baked with plenty of love and the freshest seasonal ingredients.

I am really inspired by my mum. She makes everyone feel not only welcomed but celebrated. She dreams in recipes. She’s taken care of my autistic and nonverbal little brother, Ro, his entire life. She picked up and moved to a different country when she was nearly 60, because she didn’t want to settle for a life that wasn’t serving them. She knows when to leap and how to Land.

In the last moments of summer, while driving down country roads, staring at the big Scottish Sky, and working alongside her at the cafe, I talked to my mum all day.

How old were you when you moved to New York?

24.

And then when did you leave the U.S.?

57. It’s not where I was born, but it’s the place I’ve lived most of my life.

So far.

I’ll have to live for 30-plus years to make this place longer. Please don’t wish that on me. [She looks out the window] The cows are sitting down. That means it’s going to rain.

What made you finally pull the band-aid on leaving the US?

I’ve always loved Scotland, I always wanted a second home in Scotland because Thomas and I had talked about that, like spending summers here or something like that, but I didn’t really think it would be the final move. We wanted somewhere quiet, somewhere peaceful for Ro, a place that maybe would give him a choice in a lifestyle later down the road. Maybe it’d be a farm life, you know?

[She looks out the window] The cows are sitting down. That means it’s going to rain.

What advice would you give to other women who feel stuck in a place or relationship or job?

It’s never too late. It’s sometimes doing that instinctive thing, that something in your gut that tells you things are not right. Listen to your gut. And it may seem like a really shocking, stupid thing to do, but it’s a real fine line between bravery and stupidity. It just depends on the outcome.

Sometimes you just do something hoping that it will go right. And the bottom line is, if you do make that jump, whether it’s career, whether it’s life, marriage, divorce, whatever, if you do that, literally hold your nose and jump, for the most part, it works out. Things have a way of falling into place, whether you think they will or not. I’ve found that, in this life, I’ve just crossed my fingers and jumped. And sometimes it’s worked out great, sometimes it hasn’t. But you kind of do fall on your feet. That’s just the simple truth — sometimes you just have to do it. I think if I hadn’t pushed for this, I would have regretted it. Time would have gone by, and the more time goes by, [the] harder it becomes to do. So it’s always better now than tomorrow.

Things have a way of falling into place, whether you think they will or not.

When did you first start taking baking more seriously?

Baking was something I needed to do while I was home with Ro and freshly divorced, not really knowing what to do with myself. What was my place? What was I good at? I knew nothing because your father told me what I was not good at. I knew that part really well, but I didn’t know what I was actually good at. And you guys seem to really enjoy it when I baked for you after school. And I guess that’s what I told myself, “maybe you’re good at baking.”

What did it feel like to find out what you were good at?

Baking gave me something to be proud of, but beyond that, it took my mind off the things I wanted to not think about. It took my mind off of fear. It took my mind off of anxiety. It took my mind off of sheer unhappiness during a time where I was really unhappy. And I think that’s why I threw so much into it. I threw a lot of everything I was feeling into baking — everything but the negativity; there was no negativity in that. I would say baking to me was hope. Like, “maybe I can do this right.” It was a hope that someone would appreciate it.

I mean, now, Ro is a constant source of anxiety for me. What comes for him after my time? He’s 20 now but he’s going to be 45 soon. He’s going to be 53. Where is he going to be in his life? All of that is a huge worry to me. And I do find, once I turn the ovens on, I can kind of turn off for a little while.

Ovens on, mind off.

Ovens on, mind off. Turn on, turn off. And then you’re just kind of in the moment doing whatever. In my secret hopes and dreams, I would like this to get bigger. I would like to have a space that has Ro’s name on it. I have a name. It’s either “Lavender and Ro” or “Roll and Rose,” two of my favorite flavors, lavender and rose. But I want Ro’s name on a sign somewhere. It’s scary, but I want it. ❦