Feeling Motherless on Mother’s Day?

There are countless ways a person can feel motherless on Mother’s Day. Perhaps our mother died. Or we had a dysfunctional or abusive relationship. Maybe our mother left, physically abandoning us. Then there’s the arguably worst type of abandonment, when our mother is physically present but checks out emotionally, leaving us to feel unworthy and unloved on a daily basis.

All of this can be deeply traumatizing and leave a gaping, emotional wound.

I’ve spent decades reeling in pain over my abusive mother and years finally healing the trauma that left me feeling worthless and unlovable. Here’s what I’ve learned after spending decades feeling motherless on Mother’s Day.

Losing your mother when you’re young is devastating. And by young, I mean any age, because, the truth is, we are never old enough to lose our mother. There will always be life events that we want to share with her. For some, they might be graduating from school, getting married, or running a marathon. For others they might be having a baby or buying a house. All we can do is cherish the time we had––whatever hugs, tlaughter, and emotional nourishment we were blessed to receive.

We can also be thankful when she looks back at us in the mirror. Maybe we see her eyes, her heart-shaped face, or her curly locks in our own reflection. Or maybe, we inherited her inappropriate laughter, raunchy sense of humor, or love of Motown music.

If our mother has passed, trust that we never really lost her. Know that she is there, that she lives on through us, and that when the day is dark, she’s there tilting the sun until it shines on our face.

If we feel motherless on Mother’s Day because we don’t have a close relationship with our mother, there’s some relief for that as well.

First, it’s important to understand that no one, and I mean no one, has a perfect relationship with their mother. It’s impossible. The bonds are so close that you sometimes can’t help but overstep that fine line of hold-me-tight versus let-me-go. And sometimes, there is the sad and stark reality that your mother has felt motherless, too.

It took me twenty years to fully grieve my mother after she died. I couldn’t process the anger, resentment, and shame that remained from our turbulent, abusive relationship. After countless hours on a therapist’s couch and various modes of spiritual healing, I unpacked my stuffed emotions and forgave her.

I learned that she wasn’t loved as a child and that she hadn’t been mothered herself. Putting myself in her confined heart space, I realized that she did the best she could with the tools she had. I also realized that forgiving her was less about her and more about mothering myself.

No matter what our relationship is with our mother, taking time every day to nurture and love ourselves is something we all need to do. As women, we often go through life doing for others at the expense of our own well-being. We must schedule time to practice self-care.

So, here’s where I come out on this: Unless your mother was a monster, a true Joan Crawford Mommie Dearest type, I’d bet that your mother loved you the very best way she could. She did the best with the emotional tools she had. Perhaps from that we can feel compassion for those who may have felt motherless, too.

Also, Mother’s Day is the perfect opportunity to thank the countless people who mothered us when our own mothers didn’t. The teachers, mentors, friends, and neighbors who taught us, consoled us, and listened to us. I surely wouldn’t be who I am without the generosity of time and spirit of the many women who mothered me along the way.

I hope we can all take a moment to reach out to the incredible people in our lives who’ve mothered us––thank them, praise them, and shower them with love.

Here’s the truth––when we find gratitude for others and practice good self-care, we’re never really motherless.

This year, I’ll be spending Mother’s Day with the brother I adopted when our mom died––he was 9 and I was 24. When he was young, he’d give me sweet, homemade cards on Mother’s Day, but we were both so wounded from our upbringing that finding joy in a day celebrating mothers was challenging. But after years of healing, he and I are in a clear, joyful place.