When Mother’s Day Hurts: Grieving the Loss of a Mother Figure
Grief Surrounding Mothers’ Day
By Dr. Ari Martell | Wellness Waypoint
Hey there.
Let’s talk about something real.
Something that doesn’t get said enough.
If you’ve lost your mother—or a mother figure—you already know that some days are harder than others. And then there are days like Mother’s Day, when the grief feels like it walks into the room before you do. It’s heavy. It's quiet and loud all at the same time. And while the world gears up with flowers, brunches, and sweet social media tributes, you’re left navigating a very different emotional landscape.
If that’s where you’re at right now, I want you to know: you’re not alone, and you’re not “doing it wrong” if Mother’s Day feels painful, hollow, confusing—or even rage-inducing.
Let’s walk through this together.
Grief Doesn’t Follow a Calendar
One of the hardest things about grief is how unpredictable it is. You might be doing okay for a while—functioning, even laughing—and then suddenly a commercial, a scent, a familiar phrase someone says, or a random Tuesday will knock the wind out of you.
Mother’s Day?
That’s not random.
That’s a date circled in bold red on the grief calendar, even if you wish it didn’t exist at all.
It’s not just a day. It’s a spotlight shining on an empty chair. It’s a reminder of what you don’t get to have anymore—or maybe what you never got to have in the first place. And that hurts. Deeply.
What You Might Be Feeling (And Why That’s Okay)
Let me say this loud for the people in the back: there is no “right” way to grieve.
You might feel sad. Or angry. Or numb.
You might feel envious of people who still have their moms. And then feel guilty about feeling that way.
You might feel pressure to “celebrate” for your own kids or family even though you’re barely holding it together.
Maybe your mom was your safe place—and now that she’s gone, you feel lost.
Maybe your relationship with her was complicated, and now you're grieving not just her death but the relationship you wish you had.
That kind of grief is uniquely painful. Because it’s layered. You’re not just mourning her absence—you’re also holding the hurt of what was never said, never resolved, never safe. You might be sitting with confusion, resentment, unfinished business, and even relief—and all of those emotions are valid.
Maybe you longed for nurturing and comfort and instead got criticism, coldness, or chaos. Maybe your mother was emotionally unavailable, or struggled with her own trauma and couldn’t show up for you the way you needed. Maybe love was given conditionally. Maybe you didn’t even get to say goodbye.
If you’re grieving the idea of a mother, or the version of her you hoped would one day appear, your loss is real. And it deserves to be acknowledged just as deeply as anyone else's.
When the World Keeps Spinning Without You
One of the cruelest things about grief is that life doesn’t stop when your world does. The grocery store still puts up Mother’s Day balloons. Your inbox still fills with ads for gifts and flowers. Social media still floods with throwback photos and sentimental captions.
And here you are—trying to breathe through a day that feels like it’s designed to break your heart all over again.
That’s not weakness. That’s love.
And that’s loss.
Even complicated love. Even strained relationships. Even disappointment wrapped in devotion.
What Can You Do on a Day Like This?
You don’t have to perform your grief for anyone.
You don’t have to pretend you're okay.
And you don’t owe anyone a post, a text, or an appearance at brunch.
But if you're wondering how to move through the day without drowning in it, here are a few gentle options:
1. Make Space for Her—and for You.
Light a candle. Look at a photo. Write her a letter.
Talk to her out loud. Tell her what you wish she could hear. Or just sit in silence and let your heart say what words can’t.
And if your grief includes anger or pain, give those emotions space, too. You’re not dishonoring her by being honest with yourself.
2. Let Yourself Feel What You Feel.
Cry. Scream. Sleep. Journal. Laugh at a silly memory.
Emotions aren’t wrong or bad—they’re just visitors asking to be seen.
3. Choose Your People.
Surround yourself with someone who gets it—or someone who’s willing to try.
And if you don’t have that person right now, I want you to know that I see you. You belong. There’s nothing broken about the way you’re grieving.
4. Protect Your Peace.
Mute social media. Say no to plans. Skip the card aisle.
It’s okay to set boundaries with the world so you can take care of your heart.
5. Honor Her—or Your Healing—in a Way That Feels Right to You.
Maybe you cook her favorite meal.
Maybe you volunteer, journal, or plant flowers in her memory.
Or maybe you do something completely different—like committing to the kind of self-care or parenting or boundaries she couldn’t model for you. That can be its own kind of tribute, too.
One More Thing...
Grief doesn’t mean you’re stuck.
It means you loved.
It means you still do.
And yes, it’s true—Mother’s Day might always hurt a little.
But with time and support, you can learn to carry that hurt differently. It becomes part of you—not all of you.
So as the world gears up to celebrate, know that it’s okay to step back. To grieve. To feel. To remember. To miss.
And to still be here, finding your way forward one breath, one tear, one memory at a time.
You are loved.
You are seen.
And if today—or any day—feels too big to carry alone, come find us at Wellness Waypoint. You don’t have to walk this path without support.
With care,
Dr. Ari Martell
Grief Support | Wellness Waypoint