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Mothers' Day always arrives with a complex melody.

  • 1 day ago
  • 2 min read

Mothers' Day feels different when your mother is no longer here.

There’s beauty in the day.

But there’s also an ache that arrives quietly.


This week, my body finally admitted what my mind had been trying to outrun.

  • Low HRV.

  • Almost no REM sleep.

  • Unexpected tears.

  • A nervous system asking for help.


And for a moment, I caught myself wanting to “fix” the numbers.


But healing is not a performance. And exhaustion is not failure.


So instead of forcing recovery, I chose gentleness.

  • I went to therapy for the first time this year.

  • I kept moving my body - not to punish it, but to support it.

  • I nourished myself where sleep could not.

  • And today, I allowed my family to care for me instead of always being the one who carries everyone else.


That may not sound revolutionary.

But for many women, it is.

Especially for mothers.

Especially for high performers.

Especially for those of us who learned to survive by staying strong.


Today I missed my mother deeply.

But I also honored her.

Not through productivity.

Not through hosting.

Not through perfection.


Through rest.

Through softness.

Through allowing myself to simply be held for a moment.


And maybe that’s what resilience actually is.

Not always bouncing back. Not always pushing through.


Sometimes resilience is staying connected to yourself while everything in you wants to disconnect.


So, if today feels beautiful and painful at the same time, you are not alone.


And if your body is asking you to slow down - perhaps listening is the most powerful thing you can do.

Data is a tool.

But your spirit is still the author of the story.

And today, I hope you write yourself a gentle ending. Happy Mother's Day 2026.


 
 
 

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