Opting Out

The one uninterested in Mother's Day, again.

May 11, 2024

*My first child, who hates her photo being taken. 💝*

I wasn’t planning to write about Mother’s Day this year. I already did so last year, after all, and not much since then has changed when it comes to my stance on the holiday — I’m still here, missing my mom, and she’s still not anywhere I can physically celebrate her or even call her. But, tis the season for every clever copywriter to bust out their very best mama-related puns, and for every brand and shop you’ve ever interacted with to pull out every cringeworthy tactic they can come up with to tie a sale to the notion that you might have a mother (or be a mother) in need of celebrating this one Sunday of the year.

My usual go-to position with Mother’s Day is that I want to ignore it completely. I did this before my mom died when everyone around me started having kids and I was still unsure what I wanted out of my life path (although of course I would celebrate my own mom), and then I took it up a notch when I lost her. Every year, it feels like society ratchets up the “hey mama!” content another level, as if the collective ‘they’ controlling our cultural algorithms can’t possibly fathom that not everyone feels compelled to celebrate Mother’s Day, either in a capitalistic, high consumption sort of way or at all, period. This should be obvious, but not everyone has a good relationship with their mother. Nor is everyone a mother, and that’s not necessarily by choice. For many people, motherhood is a complicated topic, if for one year only or all the years of their life. And some people just consider a Hallmark holiday and don’t want all their feeds saturated with reminders of the day.

That’s okay. All of it.

Sure, there’s also a lot of people who do celebrate. People who do want to read about gift guides or the best Mother’s Day brunch options or who enjoy the terrible word play in brand emails and consider this one of the most cherished holidays on the calendar. This newsletter is probably not for those people. And that’s okay too.

While I’m firmly in the first camp, here I am talking about it again. Why? Well, because I think the idea that you don’t have to celebrate Mother’s Day (or really any other holiday) if you don’t want to bears repeating, as does the fact that it’s not a day that everyone enjoys or plans an event around. Most people in my personal life have known for the last few years that I don’t do Mother’s Day celebrations, but I have quickly realized that this year, it’s being treated differently. I’m being treated differently. Not because I feel different or even am different in relation to the holiday, but because many assume I am due to my season of life. They assume I changed my stance, changed my mind, changed my heart, ready to pick my party hat back up and receive the flowers that I would have previously mailed to my mom.

And hey, that assumption is not crazy! In fact, it’s maybe even a normal leap to make — to figure that if someone’s pregnant, then of course they’re going to be fully in for being celebrated — or celebrating — a holiday devoted 100% to that role or chapter of life. I can completely see how someone might expect that, especially if they’ve never experienced the grief related to losing a parent (or perhaps a child, or perhaps the struggle to become a mom). I get that; I’m sure most people who dislike this holiday for their own personal reason(s) do too. That, though, is really what led me here, to this space, to talking about this again here.

I’ve had people ever so lovingly reach out to me already to discuss this Sunday or to wish me a happy first Mother’s Day (and I sincerely mean multiple people — so if you’re reading this and are like ‘oh shoot, she’s talking about me specifically,’ I’m not, don’t worry!). I’m in no way offended or angry about it… I appreciate people thinking of me. Really, I do. Heck, my mother-in-law sent me a thoughtful gift and I loved it, so I suppose it’s a situation by situation basis too. But grief is a weird, long, personal journey — something most people haven’t had to think too hard about yet — and for those of us in the dead moms’ club (or, I imagine, struggling to become a mother or decide if they want children), Mother’s Day is more nuanced and complex than just an event you pick up a greeting card for or try to remember to call your mom during. Every year, I remind myself to have grace with myself, because I’m allowed to feel however I need to about this day (or the other milestones that are more sensitive for me). I also remind myself to have grace with others, because it really is hard to imagine what you’d want or how you’d react in a similar situation til you’re in the boat yourself, desperately paddling away from the cliff. And to be thought of at all by another soul is a gift.

For me specifically, I don’t want any semblance of a reminder of Mother’s Day. Not even a hint that there’s a holiday afoot that celebrates something I miss every single day. The fact that I’m expecting to have a child soon makes absolutely zero difference to me right now, and quite honestly, I don’t anticipate my view changing that dramatically once she arrives. Does the world need to cater to me, though? Of course not… but if there’s an option to opt out of your Mother’s Day marketing campaigns, you bet your ass I’m going to choose it. And not only do I not want to be wished a happy Mother’s Day, I also don’t need messages asking me how I feel about the impending holiday or wondering how I’m hanging in there or telling me I’m being thought of. (Others may! I’m talking about myself only.) If I get them, I’ll be appreciative, certainly, but it’s more painful for me than anything else. If you’re not sure how the people in your life feel or want to be treated, just ask. I bet they’ll appreciate it.

And in case I now seem like a motherhood hater or the ultimate Mother’s Day grinch, you should know that I absolutely think moms deserve to be honored and appreciated (every day, thank you very much) and I have no problem wishing the moms in my life a joyful day. Personally, though, I want to ignore it, full stop. I will have a happy day, but not because of the holiday. Rather, regardless of it.

Wherever you fall on this subject, whether you’ve mulled it over enough to write a zillion words about it or haven’t given it a second thought, I hope you have a happy day too.

So Many Somethings

Discussion about this post