Why I Hate Mother’s Day

Don’t misunderstand me.  I love Mothers and think they are more than worthy of a special day of celebration and praise.  I was blessed with a devoted Mom who not only raised two kids but also helped raise her grandkids.  I cherish her memory.

So, what do I hate about Mother’s Day? I hate the “all-inclusive” efforts that seek to include every female as a “mother”.  I agree that giving birth is not the only criterion for being called “Mother”.  Many women have adopted and/or fostered children and are very devoted mothers.  Others are grandparents raising their grandchildren.  All these, as well as birth mothers, have earned their day of praise and celebration.

However, I am opposed to the attempts to include all women in this category.  There are women whose heart’s desire was to be a mother, but for whatever reason, it never happened.  To try to draw them into this “all-inclusive” group only magnifies their hurt and intensifies their pain.  Focusing on what might have been is agony for them, regardless of the good intentions. 

There is also the attempt to include so-called “Spiritual” mothers in this group.  These are the individuals who have contributed to the Spiritual growth of individuals in their lives.  They may be aunts, older siblings, teachers, coaches, friends’ moms, or others who have had the opportunity to speak into someone else’s life.  I commend them for their efforts and cherish their contributions, but they are not Mothers. 

To me, a mother is the one who spent sleepless nights agonizing over their sick child.  She is the one who kissed the skinned knees, hugged away the hurts, and agonized over the decisions their child had to make.  A mother teaches right and wrong and then reinforces the lessons with discipline.  She gives advice and then allows her child to make their own decisions, even when it sometimes means they will have to learn from their mistakes.  No matter what her sacrifices or choices are, she is the one who always wonders if she did enough and if she carried out her responsibilities as a mother well. 

If you haven’t experienced the blood, sweat, and tears of mothering a child, I don’t think you deserve to be called “mother”.  To include every woman in that honor is a form of “stolen valor” that detracts from the sacrifices mothers make and diminishes the honor that should be theirs.

Call me aunt, teacher, coach, or a friend, but don’t call me “mother.”