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No Mom On Mother’s Day

I’m already tired of the commercials and they’ve only just begun. Mother’s Day is this Sunday and without fail, our televisions and stores are full of reminders of this special day.  I can’t watch my favorite comedy or go pick up a gallon of milk without having images of happy mothers and daughters inundating my field of vision.  For most, those commercials and store displays are reminders to pick up a box of chocolate or a nice card for their Mom’s; for other’s like me, those commercials and store displays are simply reminders of what I don’t have.

Sitting and watching morning show co-hosts smile and gush over old pictures they took with their mother’s or listening to them reminisce about how wonderful their mother was and how much she means to them, brings me to tears almost daily. My brain begins to revert back to almost a decade ago, before I wrote my bestselling book; the time in my life where I was constantly asking “Why Me?” and the time in my life when I was mentally torturing myself on a daily basis trying to figure out what I had done so wrong that my own mother wanted nothing to do with me.

“Why me?” I’ll sit and ask myself. “Why can’t I have those memories and why can’t I feel the same way that everyone else does about their Mom?”  I begin to get angry at myself, angry at my mother, and angry at everyone around me who has the mother/daughter relationship I had always dreamed of having.  My years of recovering and the progress I had made in getting closure on my abusive childhood all go out of the window every May because I revert back into that angry individual still trying to figure out, “Why Me”.

I have no relationship with my mother by choice. I realized years ago that I could not get over my past with her still in my present and I made the difficult and heartbreaking choice to cut ties with my mother for good.  I’m proud of my decision, I stick by my decision, and I know deep in my heart that I made the right choice for me and my future to cut my abusive mother out of my life forever.

So if I am so positive that I made the right choice, why does it still hurt so much?

It hurts because the little girl in me still craves a mother’s love. The little girl in me still desperately craves a loving mother/daughter relationship.  The little girl in me wants to have a mother that is proud of me, calls to check on me, and hugs me so tightly when she sees me that I can’t even breathe.  It hurts because the little girl in me was silenced by my adult reason and logic, but she’s still there, craving something that she will never have.

But I have to remember that I’m not a little girl anymore and I am wishing for something that I will never, ever have.  I have to remember that the people I hear gushing about their mother’s didn’t grow up in the same abusive household I did.  The commercials on television that upset me aren’t meant for me, they are meant for those people who have relationships with their mothers. Those gifts and cards that fill the store displays aren’t for my mother; they are for the mothers who actually love and care about their children.  I am different, my life was different, my mom was different, and I have to accept that.

I allow myself to feel sad for a while when I am reminded that Mother’s Day is quickly approaching, but I have learned to remind myself of what I do have. I have two beautiful sons who will throw their arms around me this Sunday and try to be the first one to have the words, “Happy Mother’s Day!” come out of their mouth. I have a fiancée who loves me and goes out of his way to make Mother’s Day special for me every year.  I have strong women in my life who have been mother figures to me when I needed them the most and who would hug me as tightly as I wanted if I just asked them.

I might be different, but there is still a lot I have to be thankful and grateful for. One day, maybe the commercials and the store displays won’t hurt my feelings and cause me to regress so much.

Happy Mother’s Day.

No Mom On Mother’s Day

Sarah Burleton NY Times bestselling author

Victoria Gigante Writes For Psych CentralSarah Burleton was born in a little town in Illinois to a very emotionally disturbed woman. Her first book, her child abuse memoir "Why Me," spent 26 weeks on the New York Times and the print version is endorsed by David Pelzer, author of "A Child Called It." Sarah is now realizing her goal in becoming an ambassador for abused children and adult survivors and is currently conducting workshops and seminars throughout the state. Her message of strength over adversity and her story will help counselors, teachers, and other professionals identify signs of abuse and learn ways to establish trust with an abused child.

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APA Reference
, . (2017). No Mom On Mother’s Day. Psych Central. Retrieved on May 31, 2020, from


Last updated: 8 May 2017
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