Mother's Day Is Hard for a Lot of People. Nobody Really Talks About That.
Let's be honest —
Mother's Day is kind of a Hallmark holiday. And for a lot of people, it's one they spend white-knuckling through while everyone around them seems to be posting brunch photos and flower arrangements.
If that's you, I want you to know: you're not alone, you're not broken, and your feelings make complete sense.
Maybe your relationship with your mother is painful, complicated, or just — not what you needed it to be. Maybe she's still in your life and the day feels like an obligation you're dreading. Maybe you've had to create distance and the holiday rips that open every year. Or maybe she's gone, and the grief isn't just that she died — it's grief for everything the relationship never was.
All of it counts. All of it is real.
Trauma trickles down
One of the things I talk about a lot in my work is that trauma doesn't start with you. It gets passed down — sometimes silently, sometimes loudly — through generations. Your mother may have been shaped by her mother, who was shaped by hers. The patterns that hurt you may have roots that go back further than either of you can see.
I've sat with clients who have come to genuinely understand that about their mothers — who can see the full picture, trace the lineage, even feel compassion for what their mom went through. And they still struggle. Because understanding something doesn't automatically make it hurt less. Knowing where the wound came from doesn't mean you didn't get wounded.
"You can have empathy for someone and still grieve what they couldn't give you. Those two things are not in conflict."
That's not a character flaw. That's just being human.
The hardest part of being the one who sees it
Sometimes the most painful place to be is the person in the family who has the awareness. You've done the work — the therapy, the reading, the reflection. You understand what happened. You can name the patterns. And yet you're still the one sitting with the weight of it, often alone, while the rest of the family carries on like nothing happened.
That's its own kind of grief. And it doesn't get talked about enough.
If you're still in contact with your mother and the relationship is still hard — you might also be carrying guilt on top of all of that. Guilt for the resentment you feel. Guilt for not feeling more love, or more gratitude, or whatever you think you're supposed to feel. Guilt for the ways you've pulled back even while still showing up.
From the outside, everything looks fine. Inside, it's exhausting.
You don't have to choose between loving someone and being honest with yourself about how the relationship has affected you. Both can be true at the same time.
It's just a day — and you get to decide what it means
Here's the reframe I come back to: Mother's Day is a Hallmark holiday. The calendar assigned it meaning, not the universe. You get to decide who and what you're honoring today.
Maybe that's a grandmother who raised you, an aunt who showed up when your mom couldn't, a teacher who saw you, a friend's parent who made you feel like you belonged somewhere. The people who mother us aren't always the ones biology assigned. If someone played that role in your life — that relationship is worth honoring, full stop.
And then there's chosen family — the people you've built around yourself as an adult who feel safe in the way your home maybe didn't. Friends who know the whole story and stay. Partners who are steady. People you've handpicked because they show up. That's not a consolation prize. For a lot of people, that's everything.
Some things that can help this weekend:
Log off, at least for a little while. Social media on Mother's Day is a highlight reel. You're not seeing anyone's full picture. Protecting your peace is not weakness.
Name what you're actually grieving. "I'm grieving the mom I needed." Say it out loud, write it down, tell someone who gets it. It's a complete sentence and it doesn't need justification.
Honor what you do have. Chosen family, a mother figure, yourself — whatever feels true. The day doesn't have to be about what was missing.
You're not alone in this
There are a lot of people moving through this weekend carrying something heavy and saying nothing about it — because it doesn't feel like the right time, because they don't want to be the difficult one, because they've spent a lifetime being told their feelings were too much.
They're not too much. And neither are yours.
Complicated feelings about a parent aren't a sign that something is wrong with you. They're usually a sign that something was hard — and that you've been carrying it, maybe for a very long time. That's worth tending to, not just this weekend, but beyond it.
If this resonated and you've been thinking about working through some of it — I work with adults navigating exactly these kinds of relationships. You can learn more or reach out at nextchaptertherapynj.com. No pressure, no script. Just a conversation.
