I have no idea what it’s like to spend a Mother’s Day being honoured for my nine months of carrying my child.
I don’t know what it’s like to spend a day honouring my mother and feel something inside me like unconditional love.
I don’t have a toxic relationship with my mother; quite the opposite; in fact, I have minimal contact with her, and we keep our peace.
The peace between us is claiming that we will text each other for mothers day, just a simple text and no phone call to be had and no exchange of gifts.
Sure, at times, I wish my relationship with my mother be different, but I have come to terms that the mother archetype that I wanted growing up will never be, and I will have to take her place and mother myself.
I can care less as the years go by about mother’s day cause to me, it’s a painful reminder that I am not in the same country as my son; it’s a painful reminder of my longing to be a mom again; it’s a painful reminder of my solitude.
Mothers Day reminds women with fertility issues what they are lacking; Mother’s Day reminds the women who wish to be married and have a family that she is nowhere close to.
Mother’s Day forgets all things aunties do; Mother’s Day forgets the mother who was unfit but got clean and is trying; Mother’s day neglects the step-mother that loved with her whole heart, mother’s day denies the presents of the mother that has passed, and mother’s day is cruel to the mother that lost her child.
HONORING THE MOTHER
I am one of the fortunate ones; I have to tell myself while showing up to this Sunday’s Mothers Day brunch for my friend’s mother.
I can’t remember the last time I spent a mother’s day with my son; I can’t remember the last time I spent it with my mother.
It hurts like any other holiday, but Mother’s Day is a wounded hurt that runs deep.
As a woman working on her own mother’s wounds, I can feel other women’s mothers’ wounds and their pain.
My friend has a sister trying to conceive for some time now; she is the perfect aunt, and there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that she will make an excellent mother, but you see, that is just the thing. Like my younger sister, she is the perfect aunty and is already a mother.
We deny these women the right to be called mothers, even those who lost babies due to complicated pregnancies.
Mother’s day, for me, is a day of Pain because we exclude certain women, and we don’t honour the different formations a mother comes in. We don’t acknowledge the pain of a mother longing for her child and for sure do not celebrate the mother who gave birth to a business instead of a human.
I think about the children in foster homes who don’t have a mother, who are now faced with being excluded from what they should have as a birthright, “a mother’s love.”
This Mother’s Day, I wish all women could be honoured; I want all the mother’s wounds to be forgiven or maybe talked about, or perhaps just acknowledged.
Wherever you are, I wish you a Healing Mother’s Day, not a Happy one; life is too pushy already for me to wish you a Happy Mother’s Day.