When Mother's Day Hurts

How to support yourself through one of the hardest dates in the calendar.

Mother's Day is one of those dates that has a way of arriving loudly - whether you're ready for it or not.

It fills up shop windows and social media feeds and radio adverts, and if this year it hurts - whether you're grieving your mum, grieving the relationship you had or didn't have with her, or missing the children you hoped for - it can feel like the whole world is celebrating something you've lost.

I want to talk honestly about how you might support yourself through it. Not to make it painless - that's not possible - but to make it a little more survivable, and maybe even meaningful.

Give yourself permission to feel it

The pressure on days like this is enormous. People around you might not know what to say. You might not know what to say either.

But grief doesn't follow the calendar. It doesn't care that it's a happy day for what feels like everyone around you. And you are not obligated to perform fine when you're not.

Whatever comes up - sadness, anger, numbness, a strange flat feeling you can't name - it belongs. You're not doing grief wrong. 

Make a plan for the day

One of the most useful things you can do is decide in advance how you want to spend it. Not because you have to stick to the plan rigidly, but because having a loose shape to the day can stop it from becoming a long stretch of dread with nothing to anchor you.

That might look like: booking yourself in for a walk somewhere you love. Watching a film she would have hated but you adore. Cooking her recipe. Visiting a place that feels close to her. Sharing it with family or just staying in bed and doing nothing at all.

There is no right way to spend it. But there is something powerful about choosing your day rather than just letting it happen to you.

Limit what you let in

You do not have to scroll Instagram on Mother's Day. You don't have to attend the family gathering, or justify why you're not. You can mute words on social media. Unsubscribe from the emails. You can tell people in advance that you'll be stepping back for the day.

Protecting your energy isn't avoidance. It's knowing your limits and honouring them. That's not grief avoidance - that's grief wisdom.

Find a way to mark it, if that feels right

Some people need to do something - light a candle, visit a grave, write a letter she'll never read but you needed to write anyway. Some people need the day to be quiet and unremarkable.

Both are valid. What matters is that you're choosing what works for you, not what you think grief is supposed to look like from the outside.

If you want to mark it and you're not sure how, ask yourself: what would feel like a small act of love - towards her, or towards yourself?

Reach out if you need to

You don't have to be alone in this. Whether that's a friend who gets it, a grief community, or working with someone who can sit alongside you in the hard moments - there is support available.

If you've been thinking about grief coaching and wondering whether now is the right time - Afterglow's one-to-one sessions are a space to process at your own pace, with someone who isn't going to rush you or fix you. Just walk with you.

I’d love to have an initial chat - no pressure, no obligation.

This day is hard. You're allowed to say that. And you're allowed to get through it however you need to.

I'm thinking of you - and I’m right here with you x