When Love, Loss, or Survival Reshapes How We Honour Our Mothers

A Day That Means Many Things

Every year, as Mother’s Day approaches, I find myself sitting with a mix of feelings—some warm, others sharp, many unspoken. It’s a day drenched in expectation and sentimentality, but for those of us with complicated histories, it often feels heavier than a bouquet of flowers can carry.

This year, I wanted to explore what Mother’s Day really means when your relationship with your mother isn’t simple or sweet—and how both the first and the last Mother’s Day can reveal more about us than we expect.

The First Mother’s Day: A Memory We Never Made

Our first Mother’s Day is really just a dream. A haze. None of us can truly remember it—what we wore, what we said, whether we made our mothers smile or feel special. We don’t remember if there were flowers or cards or the scent of breakfast being made in a chaotic kitchen.

And yet, we were there. Just babies in their arms.

At that point in life, there is no decision to be made. We love without thinking. We give ourselves over completely, because we have no choice. Whether our mothers deserved that love or not is another matter altogether.

In those early years, Mother’s Day isn’t for us—it’s for them. And no matter what kind of mother we had—kind, distant, nurturing, unpredictable—we were too small to choose anything different. We were their children, and that was that.

The Last Mother’s Day: The One That Stays With Us

But the last Mother’s Day—that’s something different.

That’s the one that stays with us.

That’s the one that asks something of us.

Some people don’t even know it’s the last. Life doesn’t always come with warnings. One day you’re bringing flowers and awkwardly worded cards, and the next, the seat at the table is empty. There’s an ache in your chest, and you wish you had said more, done more, asked more.

For others, the last Mother’s Day doesn’t arrive quietly. It builds slowly, with a kind of dread. Not because of loss, but because of harm. Because the woman who gave birth to you doesn’t feel safe. Because honouring her feels dishonest, painful—even harmful.

And yet, on that day, we’re expected to smile, to entertain, to act as though she’s the greatest woman on earth.

When Honouring Feels Like a Lie

But what if she wasn’t?

What if she hurt you more than she held you?

What if being around her drains every ounce of your strength and makes you forget who you are?

That’s when the last Mother’s Day becomes something else entirely.

It becomes a choice.

And that’s what makes it powerful.

For the first time, you get to ask:

Do I want to spend this day with the woman who gave me life? Or do I want to protect the life I’ve built in spite of her?

That choice is not easy. It comes with guilt, with judgment from others, and sometimes with a lingering grief for the mother you wish you had.

But it also comes with truth.

Choosing Peace Over Performance

You get to choose peace.

You get to choose distance.

You get to say:

This day is sacred, and I will no longer perform love for someone who has harmed me.

That doesn’t make you cold. It doesn’t make you cruel.

It makes you whole.

It makes you brave.

So whether you spend Mother’s Day at her side, across the country, or surrounded by the people who feel like family—you get to decide.

Maybe the last Mother’s Day isn’t about her at all.

Maybe it’s about you—choosing yourself, your sanity, your healing.

Maybe that’s the most sacred act of all.

Honouring Your Truth

Mother’s Day doesn’t look the same for everyone, and it’s time we stop pretending it should. For some, it’s a joyful celebration. For others, it’s a quiet reckoning. And for many, it’s something in between.

Whatever this day brings up for you—grief, relief, love, loss, confusion—you’re allowed to feel it fully. You don’t have to perform. You don’t have to explain. You just have to honour the truth of your experience.

That, too, is an act of love.

A note for you and a reminder for myself-

If this piece resonated with you, please know you’re not alone. Mother’s Day can stir up complicated emotions—grief, guilt, anger, even relief—and all of those feelings are valid. Whether your relationship with your mother is loving, painful, or somewhere in between, your experience matters.

You’re allowed to protect your peace, honour your truth, and give yourself the care you may never have received.

If you’re navigating this day with a heavy heart, I see you. I’m walking it too.