Mother’s Day Can Be Complicated: Holding Space for Love, Loss, and Everything In Between

Mother’s Day Can Be Complicated: Holding Space for Love, Loss, and Everything In Between

As Mother’s Day approaches, many of us prepare to celebrate the love, strength, and sacrifices of our mothers. We reflect on the ways they nurtured us, supported us, and stood beside us—sometimes as our loudest cheerleaders, and other times as our quiet, steady protectors. For many, it’s a beautiful opportunity to honour those relationships and hold close the memories that shaped who we are.

When I think about my own mother, my memories hold both warmth and nuance. She was loving and attentive, but not someone I would have described as an overt cheerleader. Instead, she was what I’ve come to think of as a “silent, covert cheerleader”—supporting in ways that weren’t always obvious at the time, but deeply meaningful in retrospect. And that’s the thing about motherhood: no two experiences are exactly alike. Our memories are shaped by the unique dynamics of our relationships—some filled with comfort and connection, others more complex or even painful.

Because the truth is, Mother’s Day isn’t a joyful occasion for everyone.

For many, this day can feel heavy. If you’ve lost your mother, have a strained or complicated relationship, or long for a connection that was never fully there, Mother’s Day can stir up powerful emotions—grief, longing, sadness, even anger. These feelings can arrive quietly or all at once, and sometimes when you least expect them. And all of it is valid.

There is also a particular kind of heartbreak experienced by those who have lost a child. The identity of “mother” doesn’t disappear with that loss—it remains, often alongside deep grief. For mothers who continue to parent surviving children while mourning another, Mother’s Day can feel especially conflicting. There can be a desire to honour the day for the children who are here, while also holding space for the child who is not. It’s an emotional tension that can feel overwhelming, and it deserves compassion, not judgment.

In a world that often encourages us to put on a brave face and “push through,” it’s important to remember that grief doesn’t work that way. Emotions need expression. As Shakespeare so wisely wrote, “To weep is to make less the depth of grief.” You are allowed to feel deeply. You are allowed to step back, to say no, to cry, to rest, or to do whatever helps you move through the day with gentleness.

One way to support yourself through difficult days like this is through ritual. Rituals help ground us—they give shape to emotions that can otherwise feel overwhelming. I remember a simple tradition from childhood: wearing a white flower if your mother had passed, and a coloured one—often pink or red—if she was still living. It was a quiet, visible way of acknowledging loss and connection at the same time.

Rituals don’t have to be elaborate to be meaningful. Lighting a candle, visiting a special place, cooking a favourite meal, writing a letter, or simply taking a moment of reflection can all serve as powerful acts of remembrance. And if something doesn’t feel right this year, that’s okay too—you can always change or create a new ritual next time. Grief evolves, and so can the ways we honour it.

If you are a mother navigating loss while still parenting, it may also help to have open conversations with your children. Let them know how you’re feeling in a way that feels appropriate, and work together to create a plan for the day that honours everyone’s needs. Setting boundaries is not only healthy—it’s necessary. It’s okay to shape the day in a way that feels manageable and meaningful for you.

It’s also important to acknowledge those whose relationships with their mothers were marked by pain, distance, or trauma. Not every mother-child relationship is nurturing or safe, and Mother’s Day can be a difficult reminder of what was missing. If this is your experience, you are not obligated to participate in celebrations that feel inauthentic or triggering. Choosing to step back is a form of self-care and boundary setting.

In fact, this day can be gently reframed as an opportunity to honour yourself. If you didn’t receive the care or nurturing you needed growing up, perhaps this is a moment to offer some of that compassion inward. Recognize your resilience, your growth, and the ways you’ve shown up for yourself despite it all. That, too, is worth celebrating.

One thing that can never be taken from us is our memories. At first, it can be painful to revisit them, but over time, sharing stories and remembering can bring comfort. Grief expert Dr. Alan Wolfelt often speaks about a core need of transforming a relationship from one of physical presence to one of memory. It’s not about letting go or forgetting—it’s about carrying forward the love in a different way.

If you’re finding Mother’s Day especially difficult, try to plan ahead in small, supportive ways. Think about what you might need—whether that’s company, solitude, distraction, or rest. Reach out to someone you trust, or give yourself permission to keep the day simple.

Above all, be gentle with yourself.

There is no “right” way to feel on Mother’s Day. There is no timeline for healing, no expectation you need to meet. Your experience is your own, and it is worthy of care and compassion.

However this day finds you—celebrating, grieving, remembering, or simply getting through—know that you are not alone. Honour your story, in all its complexity.

You’re doing the best you can. And that is more than enough.