A Special Mother’s Day

I didn’t know this would be my life’s work.

When I was young, I was adventurous. Actually, first, I was a romantic. I wanted to get married and be carried off into the sunset. I dreamed of love affairs like Disney princesses got, and then like Julia Roberts got, and then like Carrie Bradshaw got. And then, when too many romances in my life led to self-destruction and/or personal abandonment, I wanted to explore the world and my soul – climb volcanos, dive the deep sea, and live out existence in an Ashram.

I guess I did always assume I would be a mother. People had families. I grew up in a good one, and it seemed logical, if not a defined vision, that I would procreate and have a home filled with holiday chaos and too many toys. At some point, anyway. That’s what “people do.”

So, I met the man, I walked the aisle, I had the baby.

But if there was ever a cliché that rings true, it’s that becoming a mother changes EVERYTHING.

When I was little, I was in awe of my mother. Still am. She sets the bar as high as it gets. She is the epitome of a nurturing, thoughtful, kind, compassionate matriarch. Our nest was so feathered that it is unbelievable I ANY bumps and bruises in life (if I wasn’t such a total klutz, I probably wouldn’t).

I told myself I would never be that – give up so much for others – deny so much to myself. I resented the idea that motherhood was supposed to be so sacrificial. That anyone, especially my mother, should have to do so much and get so little. That anyone should have to work so damn hard to be valued. That any equation should be so totally out of balance.

But then I became one – a mother that has had to sacrifice. A mother that has had to work too damn hard. A mother that has had to deny personal goals and dreams and desires in order to perform the sacred role of motherhood. And I learned something I could not have otherwise understood – it isn’t really a sacrifice at all. It is a gift. An honour. An enrichment beyond anything else I’ve found in anything anywhere else in the world.

I’ve had some unique circumstances in this motherhood journey, but all of the challenges have only made it more meaningful and given my life more colour and shape. I’m lucky that I have been given such a vivid framework in which to pay attention and not take for granted the experience of loving other humans so damn much.

Today is an especially special Mother’s Day, if for no other reason than I am really paying attention. I am celebrating myself, because I should. Because it’s been hard work, and I’ve had to show up in life in ways I would have never expected because of this role. But I am also celebrating the honour of getting to. Because there’s just no other way to put see it.

I am also celebrating my own mother, who has always, in every single way, made me a priority. Her life’s work. She didn’t have to. Many mothers don’t. And there is no “right” way to do it, that’s for sure. It doesn’t make us bad mothers to take care of ourselves. In contrast, the more we love ourselves the more we have to give to our children. But not all mothers are able to deliver that kind of love that is deep and genuine and unconditional. Not all mothers make their children feel as safe and loved and valued as my mother has.

To all the mothers I know, I value you for every single thing you do to make your children know they are loved. It’s not a given. It’s work and it’s hard, but I also know it is a privilege. I hope each and every one of you feels that gratitude, and that those around you show you theirs, too. Because you are amazing and should feel celebrated, and should celebrate, today, with all your heart.