Mother's Day Is Complicated. You're Not Alone.

Mother's Day is supposed to be simple. Brunch, flowers, a reason to celebrate. But for a lot of women, it's one of the hardest days of the year, and nobody really talks about that.

That's what I want to talk about today.

Grief is complicated. And it has a way of showing up when it's least convenient. Mother's Day can be especially hard for so many different reasons, and all of them are valid:

• Women who've lost their mother
• Women who've lost a child
• Women who want to be mothers
• Women in complicated relationships with their moms
• Women who are exhausted by motherhood
• Women who have experienced infertility or pregnancy loss
• Women who have adopted
• Women who placed their child in another home
• Women who are fostering
• Women who have been adopted or spent time in foster care
• Women who aren't talking to their moms or their child right now
• Women who are raising cousins, nieces, nephews — showing up for kids who needed someone, even when no one gave them the title

The list goes on. And if any of that is you, you're not alone. And you're not dramatic for finding this day hard.

I've been there. And honestly, I never saw it coming.

For the past several years, Mother's Day has come and gone and each year I'm grieving something different - relationships, identity, seasons I didn't expect to lose. I've felt the weight and complexity of this day in more ways than I was able to name. I know what it's like to smile through brunch, become consumed by photos of other people's celebrations, say I'm fine and then fall apart.

And yet, here I am, years later, experiencing something completely different. It's not all sad and depressing. In fact, parts of Mother's Day are a celebration now. And some of it is still heavy. And maybe that's okay. Maybe that's the point.

I'm beginning to realize that every season comes to an end. The hard ones, the good ones, the okay ones. It all ends. And as the years go on, I'm learning to hold onto that truth, especially when I'm in the middle of something that feels like it's never going to end.

What I've learned is that healing doesn't happen in isolation and it doesn't happen by accident. It takes a few intentional first steps and they don't have to be big ones.

What actually helped me was a combination of things that felt small at the time. Being honest with myself about what I was actually feeling instead of what I was supposed to feel. Finding community with women who didn't need me to be okay. Letting myself grieve the specific thing I lost - not grief in general, but that relationship, that season, that version of what I thought my life would look like. Those first honest steps didn't fix everything. But they moved me forward. And forward was enough.

Last year I hosted an event called In Bloom where I gathered with women who got it. Women who understand the complexities of motherhood and daughterhood. The weight of grief, the things we can't always name.

What happened in that room was really special. And I couldn't keep it to myself. If you're stuck and you aren't sure if you'll ever find someone who gets it - this might change your mind. → [In Bloom Panel Video]

You are not alone in this. I hope you feel that today.

Until next time,