Saffron tea benefits for new mums over 40: boost mood, reduce stress and improve wellbeing

Saffron tea benefits

Sometimes I wonder if the word multitasking was invented to guilt women into exhaustion. Because there I am, juggling a laptop, a school lunch, and my own internal monologue, while the kettle boils.

That’s when I reach for a few delicate threads of saffron.

They sit in a tiny glass jar on the top shelf, looking innocuous enough. Yet, these scarlet strands are the only thing standing between me and what I call “the 3 p.m. collapse”, that lull when the school day isn’t over, work emails won’t stop, and dinner is still very much a theory.

The golden pause

I started drinking saffron tea years ago, after marrying into a Persian family where saffron is practically a love language. It colours everything: rice, stew, even dessert. There’s a sort of reverence in the way Persians handle it, a hush before the threads bloom into gold.

So one afternoon, in a moment of curiosity (and mild desperation), I dropped a few filaments into my tea. What happened was nothing short of alchemy. The water blushed, the air filled with that honeyed, earthy perfume, and for a brief moment, the world slowed down. Even Cyrus, usually in a permanent state of motion, seemed to settle. I thought, ah, this is what peace smells like.

Why saffron matters – and not just in cooking

Let’s get one thing straight: saffron isn’t the latest wellness gimmick. It’s been the soul of Persian culture for centuries. Long before matcha lattes and collagen sachets, women were steeping these crimson threads to soothe their nerves, lift their mood, and settle the stomach after a day’s labour.

Modern science has caught up. Saffron’s antioxidant profile reads like a pharmaceutical sales pitch: mood stabiliser, digestion aid, circulation booster, possible antidepressant. Some studies even suggest it can rival prescription medication for mild depression, and that’s not bad for something you can buy from a spice shop in Newcastle.

But the real power of saffron isn’t just chemical, it’s emotional. It’s the quiet confidence of a ritual that says, “I deserve something beautiful today.” In a life spent ticking boxes, saffron tea is exactly what I need.

A scent that fills the gaps

The smell of saffron is hard to describe, somewhere between hay, honey, and late-afternoon sunlight. When I brew it, the scent seems to occupy every corner of the kitchen.

Even Cyrus knows what it means when he smells it. “Mummy’s tea time,” he says, which is his polite way of acknowledging that I’m temporarily unavailable to help with Lego creations.

I watch the threads unfurl in the cup, bleeding their colour like ink into paper. It’s a slow process, which is precisely the point. You can’t rush saffron, it insists on patience. That’s the lesson I keep learning in midlife: not everything should be done faster.

How to make it (without turning into Gwyneth)

There are endless ways to make saffron tea. Mine is hardly revolutionary, but it works. Drop two or three saffron threads into hot water, or a cup of black or green tea. Let it steep for five minutes. Add a drizzle of honey and, occasionally, a pinch of cinnamon.

That’s it. Just you, a kettle, and something golden.

The politics of rest

We talk about “wellbeing” as though it’s something you can order online, a lifestyle accessory for the organised and financially solvent. But for most women I know, myself included, calm has to be fought for.

The golden rebellion

Some women have yoga. Some run half marathons. I steep saffron. And if that sounds unremarkable, good because not everything restorative needs an audience.

The child will still refuse to wear socks, the inbox will still be full, and dinner will still be something I remember to cook halfway through the evening news. But when I sip that golden tea, I can chill for a little bit.