A Love Letter to the Moms Who Feel Alone Today

Today is Mother’s Day.

And while I’m supposed to feel celebrated, cherished, pampered—if I’m being honest, I feel heavy.

This morning, my children greeted me with warm hugs, handmade cards, and breakfast. Their love is real and pure, and I’m so grateful for them. . I received an overwhelming amounts of text messages praising my strength and resilience maneuvering through motherhood. But still, underneath all that gratitude, there’s a dull ache I can’t ignore.

Because there’s no partner planning a surprise.

No one taking the reins so I can just be.

No spa appointment booked. No champagne toast. No “sleep in, I’ve got it” moment.

It’s just me. Like it always is.

That’s the part of Mother’s Day we don’t always talk about. The part where you’re mothering on empty. Where you wake up tired, and go to bed even more tired. The part where you smile through your own unmet needs because your kids deserve a mom who shows up.

But what about us?

What about the moms who carry the emotional weight of motherhood alone?

And what about the moms who aren’t technically alone—but still feel invisible?

The moms who have a partner but don’t feel celebrated.

Who are in the room, but never really seen.

Who long for acknowledgment, affection, or effort—and instead get silence, or worse, the assumption that they “should be fine.”

That pain is real too.

And it often hurts even more—because the world assumes you’re supported.

But no matter what your situation looks like on the outside, I want you to hear this:

You are doing an incredible job.

Even when you feel like you’re barely holding it together.

Even when the loneliness creeps in.

Even when today doesn’t look like the Instagram posts.

Even when no one else is there to say it.

You are worthy of rest.

You deserve to be celebrated.

And you are allowed to grieve what you wish this day looked like—without guilt.

So how do we take care of ourselves in this space? How do we reclaim this day, even when it hurts?

Here’s what I’ve learned:

Ways to Reclaim Mother’s Day (Even If It Hurts)

• Let yourself feel it. Don’t push away the sadness or pretend everything’s fine. Write it out. Cry. Breathe. Give your emotions room—they’re valid.
• Create your own ritual. You can light a candle. Play your favorite song. Take a long shower. Savor a warm drink. Even five minutes of intentional self-care counts.
• Ask for support—even if it’s just emotional. Text a friend. Call someone who gets it. Say, “I need to feel seen today.”
• Celebrate you. Write yourself a love letter. Name five things you’re proud of. Look in the mirror and speak life over yourself.
• Start a new tradition. You don’t need permission to make this day yours. Plan something small but sacred for today and for the years moving forward.
• Move your body or rest intentionally. Dance. Stretch. Walk. Or lay down and do nothing for a while—because rest is radical too.
• Visualize the woman you are becoming. Not just a mother, but a whole woman reclaiming her joy, voice, and light.

 

And finally, I want to say this to every mom reading:

Whether you’re mothering solo, with a disengaged partner, co-parenting, grieving, healing, raising babies or teens or grown children—you are phenomenal.

Motherhood is not a one-size-fits-all journey.

There’s no perfect version.

There’s just your version—the one where you show up, love deeply, give endlessly, and keep going.

And today, I celebrate you.

With all my heart,

Sasha B.