Make Mother's Day Yours Again
Celebrate (or don't celebrate) your way.
Sunday, May 11, is Mother’s Day in the United States and Canada.
Mother’s Day was always pretty straightforward when I was a child: Give cards to my mother and grandmothers, and celebrate them for being my mother and grandmothers.
Over the years, as I began broadening my outlook, which included my own infertility struggles before eventually becoming a mother myself, I learned that Mother's Day wasn't just joy and overpriced floral bouquets for everyone.
I am extremely fortunate that Mother’s Day remains a happy holiday for me. I’m looking forward to brunch with my family this weekend, cards from my daughter, and celebrating my mother, with whom I have a strong, affectionate, yet imperfect relationship.
But for many others, Mother’s Day is filled with nuance.
For some, it's a festive day, and that's wonderful.
For others, it's a day of heartbreak and sadness. And that's something to be understood, too, because I don’t think we acknowledge the darker side of Mother’s Day enough.
Please know that I see those of you who don't have a good/loving/healthy relationship with their mom. Those who are struggling with infertility. Those whose mother is dead. Those with abusive mothers. Those with mothers who voted for Donald Trump.
I’m sure this is going to be a difficult Mother's Day for many Americans who are still grappling with their mother's decision to vote for Trump back in November 2024. And you can come sit right next to me if you're that person. Because, as I've mentioned many times here on this Substack, I acknowledge how incredibly lucky I am that my mother voted for Kamala Harris. And how I've had to let several friends go because I don't understand how or why they could continue supporting their Trump-voting mothers. (I know you don't just stop loving someone, but the way I see it, your mother voted against YOU. That's not some "agree to disagree" shit. That's cruelty.)
I realize that not every woman in this country has the good fortune of a mother who believes in the right to her daughters’ and granddaughters’ bodily autonomy. Or her right to not be treated like a second-class citizen. And I’m truly sorry for that, because you didn’t deserve that kind of betrayal.
"She meant well." "She didn't know any better." "That's just the way she is." "We don't discuss politics." "She won't listen to me." If any of those phrases sound familiar, I feel you, I get you, and I am genuinely sorry. Because I'm not going to sit here and tell you that you can just sit your mom down, say your piece, and suddenly, she'll understand how she hurt you. It’s never that easy.
At the same time, you don’t have to celebrate your mother on Sunday if you don’t want to. You really don't. You don't have to honor someone who hurt you and betrayed you just because she's your mother.
BUT, if your mom is showing some serious buyer's remorse, perhaps you can talk to her about how she can help push back on the administration. I sincerely hope these mothers are now open to constructive conversation about their choices. They can still be part of the solution instead of the problem.
(Quick reality check: Despite Trump’s low approval ratings, most of his voters don’t regret their election choice.)
Ever since I became a mother, you know what’s been the best part of Mother’s Day? No, it’s not the cards, flowers, or brunches.
It’s Saturday Night Live. Specifically, how their Mother’s Day specials never shied away from how fucking hard motherhood is.
Sure, roses and mimosas are nice — and much appreciated,
! But I have never felt more seen as a mother than when a bottomless Emma Thompson took out the trash holding toddler Heidi Gardner:Or when Amy Schumer showed the world what it’s really like in a delivery room — and how there’s nothing glamorous about postpartum life.
Whether or not you’re a mother, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the best way to honor Mother’s Day would be for the United States to provide families with the services we truly need. Like paid maternity leave. Like subsidized childcare. Like equal pay. Like acknowledgment of the invisible load we carry every single day.
What mothers don’t need is anything resembling the Trump administration's corrupted view of what they think motherhood should be: A $5,000 “baby bonus” after delivery? Insulting. A “National Medal of Motherhood” for women who have six or more children? Does that medal come with a full-time nanny? (Let’s also not forget that the current administration is pushing a Christian, heterosexual, white, married agenda here, leaving non-traditional families behind in their plans.)
If you’ll indulge me, please allow me this moment to honor my amazing mother: A woman who has demonstrated tireless activism in the face of growing authoritarianism, and who continues to show endless generosity toward our entire family. Unlike my grandmothers, she has remained a steady, loving presence in my daughter’s life since Day One (literally! She and my dad were my first visitors while I was still in the delivery room, chomping on a delicious post-birth turkey sandwich). I’m so grateful to her for being on the right side of history, and more importantly, for being someone my daughter can look up to.
I hope your Mother's Day is everything you want it to be, whether it's spending time with your mother -- or avoiding her.
Whether it’s spending time with your children -- or asking for some alone time instead.
Whether it’s sleeping late, and enjoying brunch with your family -- or locking yourself in your room, and doing whatever you want.
Celebrate yourself. Celebrate someone you love. Celebrate your mom, even if she’s no longer living. Celebrate the person YOU want to celebrate. Buy your mom flowers. Buy yourself flowers. Go for a walk in the woods. Eat ice cream by yourself while binge-watching The Pitt, White Lotus, or whatever addictively good TV series is calling your name.
And if Sunday isn’t a celebratory day for you, remember, it's just a day, and tomorrow will be here before you know it. Do most of the above self-care anyway.