Excerpt
This part of the story is the grief piece.
I grew up grieving a mother who was still alive. I watched other people have close relationships with their moms, watched Mother’s Day celebrations, watched TV mothers—and I wished, prayed, and hoped for something different.
I didn’t lose my mother to death. I lost her through distance, misunderstanding, and words that made me feel unwanted. And that kind of grief is confusing, because the person is still there—but the relationship you needed never was.
For a long time, I grieved what I didn’t have, blamed myself for losing it, and learned how to survive by parenting myself. That grief shaped my independence, my resilience, and my longing for mentorship, guidance, and love.
Reflection
Grief doesn’t only come from death.
Sometimes it comes from what never existed.
Sometimes healing means learning how to mourn what you needed—and didn’t receive—without letting it harden your heart.
Prompts
What relationship did I grieve even though the person was still alive?
What did I have to teach myself because no one else did?
Where did grief make me independent—but also lonely?
What would it look like to honor my grief without staying in it?
Listen
Mother wounds don’t have to stay.