Today Is A Complex Day For Many

If you are one of them, this is for you.

Rittenhouse Square, Philadephia, PA

July 2024

Full disclosure: I am not, never have been, and never will be a mother. The words written below are meant to offer hope for those having a hard time today and needing more than the Hallmark version of what this day is. I say this because I admire mothers and do not want to pretend that I understand the sacrifices, pain, and complexities of motherhood.

Someone mentioned this week that Apple has added Mother’s Day to their calendar and there is no way to remove it. So today, even the person who chooses not to go on social media or check their email is still forced to feel that pang of salt in the wound to be reminded of what they’re trying to forget.

Someone else mentioned that today is their least favorite day of the year. When I read that, I imagined what they are carrying in their body. What their eyes have seen, what their ears have heard, and what they were told when they tried to explain said things.

I believe both of these people are justified in their experience. And from my experience, there are a lot of places where they would get wounded further by sharing that feedback. This is what creates much of the polarization when people talk about what should be talked about but is hidden in many communities and families.

I have tried to write this essay four times, and each time, I am flooded with how often I have been harassed, belittled, and shamed for naming things that have helped others around having an abusive mother. Every time I go to make one point, I can hear (and see) the anonymous onlooker leave their comment on some innocent person’s vulnerable sharing, “There are two sides to every story.”

I hate that shit. And we don’t have time and space for that. The pain from today is real, and the people who need the reminders to hang on don’t need the reminders from strangers who act like the mothers they walked away from. I hope that’s clear.

To those needing the reminders:

For all the daughters who needed a less competitive mother, I hope you thrive in self-acceptance.

For all the sons who were not the kind of boy she wanted, I hope you are rooted in self-love.

For the adult whose past self is yelling today because they have never had what they needed from her, I hope you hold that past self close.

For the young mother who is afraid, because becoming a mother has reminded her of past pain, I hope you feel your strength of how you’re doing it differently today.

For the grieving mother, who regrets not knowing better, I hope you know how many strangers appreciate knowing there is someone who cares and is sorry.

For the adoptee who has never known her, I hope you feel important today and held by a deep, affirming love.

For those experiencing the first year without her, when she was the anchor of healing and hope, I trust her presence shows up right on time for you today.

For those stuck between needing space and feeling guilt because of how much trauma she has endured, I hope you choose peace for your mind, body, and soul.

For those needing to be heard and instead being told what to do about her, I hope you catch your breath in a silent space, and feel held there before you are vulnerable again.

For those who are still trying to please her, when nothing seems to work, I hope you allow yourself to grieve that cost.

For those who’ve had to protect their kids from her because it was the only way to break the cycle, I hope you see safekeeping in your kids’ eyes today.

The cycle to heal these is not an easy one.

Suggesting a person who has experienced a mother wound what they should do without understanding how that wound has changed them is creating more for them to heal from.

Healing the mother wound is not healing the relationship with your mother. It is healing the harmful actions your mother took that are left inside your mind and body. Healing the mother wound is you coming face-to-face with those wounds and mending them. Taking those wounds to the person who put them there is often where more wounding comes.

For those who’ve had changed mothers who’ve fought for your relationship, I hope you can consider those who haven’t today.

If I had one want for everyone listed above, it would be that they are no longer objectified when they try to show people their pain.

How do we heal from this?

By listening to the parts of us that we have silenced. The part that was hurt by her, and the part we found easier to numb rather than to be reminded of what they carried.

We build the space and capacity to listen to the lies that were built from the shame and the shame built from the past traumas, and we close our eyes and say, “I am here," over and over until we sense our own power coming back.

This is a kind of vulnerability that feels similar to when she hurt you. In the moments when you needed comfort but received criticism, you stopped opening your arms.

Healing is opening them up again, but this time, being the warm embrace they needed. It makes sense to want your mother to clean up your wounds, but if she is the one who put them there, the safest bet is to be who you needed her to be and over and over see the past wounds heal and the potential for present wounds to stop.

This is not easy. It is complex. Days like today can make you feel more hurt, but let today be what it is intended. A lot of pretend. A lot of unnecessary false narratives. You, standing on the outside of it, catching your breath.

I’m glad you’re here.

Nate

Reflections:

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Is there one step you can take today that feels aligned with your continued healing of this process?

Again, I’m glad you’re here.