Mother’s Day is a time to celebrate and honor mothers, but for many of us, it can also be a time of reflection on what we’ve received, and more often than not, on what we didn’t. For me, this day brings mixed emotions, as I think about the relationship I had with my mother, and the role I’ve had to carve out for myself in the absence of what I needed from her.

Growing up, I didn’t always have the emotional support or stability I longed for. In many ways, I was thrust into the role of caretaker, especially for family members who needed more than I could give at the time. I spent much of my youth supporting my grandmother, an uncle with schizophrenia, my mother with breast cancer twice, and an extra parent to my younger brother. I was thrusted into roles I never thought I would have to fill at such an early age, especially after my parents’ violent divorce when I was turning 6. But in all that caregiving, I often found myself wondering: Where was the care for me?

I never felt truly seen. I never felt like I was allowed to be just a kid or to explore who I was. Instead, my identity and my needs became secondary. I learned to place others’ emotional needs ahead of my own, but in doing so, I lost touch with myself.

What I needed from my mother was simple: the space to be myself, to feel heard and valued for who I was, not for the roles I played in the family. I needed encouragement to grow and explore my identity without fear of judgment or abandonment. I needed validation of my emotions, especially the complex ones I felt about the family dynamics we were navigating.

What I needed was to be allowed to express myself, to explore who I am without fear of reprimand or dismissal. As someone who identifies as non-binary, my journey toward self-discovery has been complicated by the lack of support and understanding, not just from society, but also from those closest to me.

Growing up with emotionally immature parents left me in a constant state of confusion, not knowing where I stood, both emotionally and in the family structure. It wasn’t until I sought therapy that I learned to break free from the role my parents imposed on me (role self), and I began to understand that my emotional needs were valid. Therapy helped me recognize that I didn’t need to keep holding everything together, especially when I was breaking on the inside.

On this Mother’s Day, while I acknowledge the love I have for the woman who brought me into this world, I also recognize the parts of me that still long for the mother I never had. I needed the kind of nurturing and understanding that wasn’t available to me in my childhood, but I’ve learned that I can provide it to myself now.

What I needed from my mother wasn’t perfection, but presence. I needed her to see me as a whole person, and not just as a caregiver or an extension of what she needed. I needed her to listen, to guide, and to love me for who I am, not who I could become.

Now, as an adult, I’ve come to terms with the fact that my relationship with my mother will never be what I had hoped. But what I can do is offer myself the love, care, and understanding I always needed. And that, in itself, is a form of healing.

This Mother’s Day, I honor the journey I’ve taken to become the person I am today: strong, independent, and unapologetically myself. It’s not the relationship I wanted, but it’s the one I’ve had to learn to live with. And in that, I’ve found peace. 🕊️