For Those Who Dread Mother’s Day: You’re Not Alone

Mother’s Day. A day of celebration, right?

Not for everyone.

For some of us, this holiday isn’t joyful—it’s a heavy reminder of what we never had. Maybe you lost your mom too soon. Maybe you never had a mother at all. Or maybe, like me, you had a mother who resented you, hurt you, or simply refused to show up.

Hallmark doesn’t have many cards for that kind of mom.

When children are neglected or abused, they don’t usually hate their parents—they turn that pain inward. We learn to hate ourselves, to believe we must be the problem. That if we were just better, quieter, more lovable… maybe then we’d be seen. Maybe then we’d be safe.

This is why so many of us have a painful relationship with the word “mother.” Our first bully wasn’t on the playground—it was the person who was supposed to nurture us. We grew up believing the world wasn’t safe, and love always had conditions.

If this resonates with you, please hear me: You are not broken. You are not wrong for walking away. You are not alone.

It's estimated that nearly 1 in 4 Americans are estranged from a family member, and yet we’re still made to feel ashamed—thanks to headlines like the one recently published by The New York Times, suggesting estrangement is a “trend.” As if any child voluntarily orphans themselves for fun.

No. We go no contact after years—decades—of fighting to be heard. Of begging to be treated with basic respect and care.

I didn’t walk away from my parents because it was easy. I did it because staying was destroying me. I just wanted them to care. To ask me how I was doing. To treat me like I mattered. They refused. They told me they wouldn’t change, and made it clear: their comfort mattered more than my safety. And so, for my own mental health, I left. I chose myself. And maybe that’s what being a mother to yourself really means.

So today, I want to honor all of us who are navigating this day with complicated grief.

To the parentified daughters—the little girls who had to grow up too soon and raise themselves…

To the dog moms, the hopeful future moms, and the cycle-breakers doing the healing work for the next generation…

To anyone who didn’t have a mother—but became their own…

I see you. I celebrate you. I’m proud of you.

This Mother's Day, if your heart hurts, let it. But don’t forget: the love you needed is the love you can now give—to yourself.

You are not alone. You are not unlovable. You are not too much.
You are enough.
You always were.