Let’s talk about the part of Mother’s Day that rarely makes it to Facebook, Instagram or talked about.

You scroll past the smiling brunch photos, flower deliveries, and glowing tributes—and something in your chest tightens.

Because for you, this day feels… different.
Maybe you don’t have a child, you don’t want a child and feel guilty
Maybe you lost a child.
Maybe you’re estranged from your mother or your own child.
Or maybe, your relationship is complicated, messy, or wrapped in silence.
If that’s you, pause here and take a deep breath.
You are not alone.
While the world celebrates picture-perfect moments, many women carry quiet heartaches and invisible stories that don’t fit into a greeting card. It’s okay to feel what you feel. It’s okay to not post the perfect photo. And it’s more than okay to protect your peace.
This isn’t about bitterness. It’s about honoring truth. About recognizing that love, grief, and boundaries can all exist in the same space.
You do not need to explain your story.
 You do not need to apologize for protecting your soul.
 You do not need to feel guilty for what never was—or what had to end.
And if Mother’s Day felt heavy, I want you to know this:
 Your value is not tied to your role in someone else’s life.
 You are not defined by absence, estrangement, or expectation.
You are still whole.
You are still worthy.
You are still deeply loved.
So here’s to you—the women who mother with their presence, their wisdom, their creativity, or simply their breath. The women who are redefining what it means to give and receive love.
Let’s hold space for each other beyond the flowers and fanfare. Because life is real. And healing is holy.
If days like that you feel lonely, reach out.
 If you need to cry, do.
 If you need permission to do Mother’s Day your way next year, you have it.
You are seen, You are sacred, And you are never alone.
And as for me?
I am a lucky mom. I have two wonderful sons who bless my life with love, laughter, and connection. For that, I am beyond grateful.
But my journey as a daughter was more complex.
At 16, my mother relocated to Florida, leaving me and my younger siblings age 13 and 6 behind. While I had been fortunate to maintain some kind of relationship over the years she was alive, it was never quite the warm, nurturing bond many speak of so freely.
And that’s okay.
I share this not for sympathy, but for solidarity. Because I’ve heard so many stories over the years, stories whispered quietly, stories filled with longing, confusion, and silent grief. That’s why the “Unspoken” circle was created
We need to make space for these conversations too.
For those who boast joyfully about their beautiful bonds—keep doing that. We need light and examples. But for those who carry a quieter truth, know this:
You are not broken., You are not alone.
 
And your experience matters, too.
 
Mae 💗

#MentalHealthmatters, #motherhood #