Happy Complicated Mother’s Day

If you have realized that the Mother's Day holiday and its traditions (including the commercialism of it all) are complicated, this post is for you. And if Mother's Day seems straightforward or it was barely a blip on your radar screen, I also wrote this with you in mind.

Yesterday, on Mother's Day, I posted this on socials: 

So, today is hard for you. It may feel like Mother's Day is always hard for you or those you love. 

Or perhaps today, new grief is sneaking up on you and catching you off guard. Something goes sideways. That was not "supposed to happen. 

I encourage you to do this: get curious. Don't try to change the way you feel. Don't push the complicated feelings away. Notice them and continue to be present. Tomorrow, I'll post a blog that I encourage you to consider. But for today, we just notice and try to stay curious and open-hearted.

The thanks, comments, and private messages I received from that simple post reminded me how much we desire the hard to be acknowledged. 

Hopefully, by now, we all realize that a cheerful, well-intentioned "Happy Mother's Day" said to someone we know or a random woman can elicit the full range of emotions. An attempt to "appreciate all mothers" can make other women feel excluded and unappreciated, and the painful reminder that they are not recognized as a mother by a traditional definition and feel the pain this can bring. 

They may not say or show it, but they may deeply feel something other than happiness. 

I have witnessed this personally through the experience of my aunt Sarah Scotton. She has bravely shared her experience with me and given me permission to share it with you. Not only has she been a mother figure to me and my siblings and cousins our entire life, but she has been a nurse for over 34 years, many of those years taking care of the sickest of children on an inpatient pediatric unit. She is the kind of aunt kids need. I hope my niece and nephew feel delighted in the she has always made me feel. And no doubt children all over North Carolina and beyond remember her loving and healing touch when they pass by a hospital, remember the days they spent there, or catch a glimpse of their scar, etc.

She has shared with me how Mother's Day used to be hard when she would go to her mom's church that day. 

She explained,

"They would ask all mothers to raise their hands so they could receive a red rose. I was happy for momma but felt sad and empty that I never got a rose."

She did long to be a biological mother, but this did not happen for her. Her life has been a beautiful example of reframing this loss of a dream through her additional focus on her family and the children around her. She is 100% a nurturer and was a mother figure to me and countless others, and it makes me sad we have not found a way to acknowledge the importance of this role in our churches, our community, and beyond – yet. I am hopeful we can find more formal ways to thank her and so many women who have a similar experiences. But for now, I thank her for being an incredible mother figure to me and a fantastic dog mom of three.

I can think of countless other examples, and indeed, you can too. 

In life, then there are the children of mothers—read, all of us—who may have lacked any relationship with their biological mother. Others may have had an idyllic relationship with their mother, but this is rare. 

In death, when one's mother dies - it always feels too soon for those who remain. My friends who miss their moms have taught me to savor time with mine more. And there are the mothers whose children have exited this life before them, and the out-of-order grief that makes things exponentially more difficult makes it even harder to. 

Though we all strongly desire to post positive things on social media and try to focus only on positive things, there is danger in what has become known as toxic positivity. The phrase coined by Jack Jalberstam in 2011 is now used to describe the unrealistic and unhealthy pressure we feel to avoid negative thoughts or at least speak them out loud, This includes the "pressure to stay upbeat no matter how dire one's circumstance is."  The pressure can make it even harder for them and those around them.

So, I encourage you to get curious. And honest. 

Today, on the day after. Will you take a few minutes to pause and do these three things: 

• Reflect

• Record

• Reframe

Reflect. Think back on how yesterday went. In what ways did you celebrate (or didn't) Mother's Day? What did it bring up? The good, the bad, and the ugly. 

Record. Write down how you feel. I do this in a journal. Try not to worry about what others will think if they read it. Hopefully, if read they would honor your honesty. And if they don't, do you care? But I get that hesitation, so keep it private for only you if needed. But take advantage of the power of seeing your thoughts written in your handwriting in front of you. In writing, we get clarity about what we know and have experienced and are reminded that when we finish writing what happened and what we felt… we get to write what happens next, which is living our life with this new understanding. 

If you want to avoid putting it in writing, how about you try to sit in front of a mirror and speak your reflections out loud? As you look at yourself, you will know if you are being entirely honest. It is helpful to acknowledge if you celebrated or were celebrated in all the ways you wanted to be. Or maybe you were the child missing what you longed for. Acknowledge it if it was also miserable as well.

Reframe. Consider if there is a new opportunity to shift your perspective. Can you take what you experienced firsthand or observed and think about a new way the script could be flipped? Consider if there is a new opportunity to shift your perspective that would help you and those you love experience deeper connection, compassion, and healing.

And we can imagine how next year can be different and then do it. What if all mother figures could be given a rose in next year's church service? Mother's Day presents at school could be created more gender-neutral to help the children celebrate the ones that make them feel loved inclusively instead of reminding some of them that someone may be missing them – which the child probably hears is their fault. Maybe we can broaden how we define a "mother" or a "nurturer" to include those who have been a nurturer for yourself and others. We can make more significant strides in dismantling gender roles and identities that exclude so many. We can stop acting like everyone "should be" happy and fulfilled on Mother's Day; in doing this, many more can feel seen and understood. I believe this includes our future selves and those who follow after us.  

What do you think? I would love to hear from you. Add a comment below or send me a message directly.