Mother’s Day: Holding the Joy and the Ache

Mother’s Day is often wrapped in images of brunches, flowers, smiling families, and gratitude. For some, this day genuinely feels warm and celebratory. But for many others, Mother’s Day carries a quieter, more complicated emotional reality.

Grief.
Longing.
Ambivalence.
Tenderness.

As a therapist—and as a human—I want to say this clearly:

It makes sense if Mother’s Day brings mixed feelings.

For me, it does.

I lost my mother to an aggressive breast cancer in 2016. She was taken too quickly, and even years later, Mother’s Day can still catch me off guard. I miss her voice. I miss being able to call her. I miss watching her be a grandmother to my children in the way she deserved to be.

And at the same time, I am deeply grateful to be a mother.

Both are true.

That coexistence—gratitude and grief sharing the same space—is something our culture rarely makes room for. We tend to frame Mother’s Day as something you’re either celebrating or surviving, but for many of us, it’s both.

When Mother’s Day Is Complicated

Mother’s Day can be especially difficult if you are:

• Grieving the loss of your mother

• Navigating a painful, distant, or unsafe relationship with your mother

• Longing to be a parent while facing infertility

• Grieving miscarriage, stillbirth, or pregnancy loss

• Living with the unimaginable pain of losing a child

• Parenting while carrying grief, exhaustion, burnout, or ambivalence you don’t feel allowed to name

For many, this grief is invisible. It doesn’t come with recognition or rituals. It exists quietly alongside functioning, caretaking, and managing everyday life. This kind of grief can feel isolating—not because it isn’t real, but because it isn’t always acknowledged.

Honoring What Was, While Living What Is

Over time, I’ve learned that honoring my mother doesn’t mean trying to recreate what was lost—or pretending the loss didn’t happen. Instead, I try to carry the best parts of her forward with my kids.

Her warmth.
Her humor.
Her deep care for people.

In that way, the relationship didn’t end—it changed. Love didn’t disappear. It found a new place to live.

Grief doesn’t mean we stop living. And living fully doesn’t mean we stop grieving.

Grief Is Not a Failure of Gratitude

Feeling grief on Mother’s Day does not mean:

• You are ungrateful

• You don’t love your children

• You loved your mother “too much”

• You’re stuck or doing healing wrong

Grief simply means something mattered deeply.

Love and loss are not opposites. In many ways, grief is love continuing after loss.

Gentle Self‑Care for Mother’s Day

If this day feels heavy, here are a few trauma‑informed ways to care for yourself:

✔ Let mixed emotions exist.
Joy, sadness, gratitude, anger, numbness—they can all coexist. You don’t have to choose one.

✔ Set boundaries without explanation.
You are allowed to opt out of plans, conversations, posts, or traditions that feel harmful.

✔ Redefine the day.
Mother’s Day does not have to look traditional or performative. You get to decide what feels supportive.

✔ Limit social media if needed.
Scrolling can amplify comparison and grief. Protect your nervous system.

✔ Practice self‑compassion.
Talk to yourself the way you would to a dear friend carrying loss.

✔ Stay connected to safe people.
Grief was never meant to be carried alone—even quiet companionship counts.

Preparing for Loss Dates and Traumaversaries

One thing I often remind both my clients—and myself—is that hard dates are easier when we prepare for them.

Loss anniversaries, diagnosis dates, death anniversaries, Mother’s Day, birthdays, and holidays can function as traumaversaries—times when the body and nervous system remember, even if we think we’re “fine.” Sometimes the emotional wave arrives days or weeks before the date itself.

Preparation isn’t about bracing for impact. It’s about meeting yourself with intention instead of surprise.

If you’re approaching a difficult date, consider:

• Naming it ahead of time
  “This is a tender season for me.” Simply acknowledging this can reduce shame and confusion when emotions surface.

• Lowering expectations on purpose
  Energy, productivity, and emotional bandwidth may dip. That’s not failure—it’s grief being honest.

• Planning extra support
  Schedule therapy, ask a trusted person to check in, or choose not to be alone if isolation worsens pain.

• Creating a grounding ritual
  Light a candle, write a letter, take a grounding walk, listen to familiar music. Rituals help contain grief rather than letting it overwhelm.

• Caring for the body, not just the mind
  Trauma often shows up physically. Rest, hydration, gentle movement, and predictability matter more than insight on these days.

And just as important—notice when the date passes. Many people experience an emotional drop afterward, when the nervous system finally exhales. That, too, is normal.

Grief doesn’t follow the calendar neatly. Preparing doesn’t make it painless—but it can make it feel less disorienting and less lonely.

A Closing Reflection

Mother’s Day can hold gratitude and grief.
Love and loss.
Presence and longing.

If today is joyful for you, I hope it’s deeply nourishing.
If today is painful, I hope you feel less alone.
And if today is both, I hope you know—you’re not broken.

I carry my mother with me every day.
And I honor her by loving my children the way she loved me.

Both can be true.