When Mother's Day Hurts: A Love Letter to the Brokenhearted

Mother’s Day isn’t easy for everyone. In fact, for many, it’s one of the most painful days of the year. Before we go any further, let me say this: your feelings are valid. Whether you're mourning a mother who passed away, grieving the absence of a nurturing mother, wrestling with a strained or toxic maternal relationship, or aching from the loss of a child or partner — this post is for you.

And if you simply feel depressed around this holiday and can’t even pinpoint why — this post is still for you.

Finding peace in the stillness — a moment of reflection and healing on Mother's Day.

Let's Talk About the Darkness First

Depression has a way of whispering lies that feel like truth — “You’re alone. No one sees you. You’re too much. You’re not enough.” And on days like Mother’s Day, those whispers can become deafening. But let me urge you:

Please do not isolate yourself.

Please do not sit alone drinking or crying yourself deeper into the pit.

Please do not scroll endlessly through social media comparing your story to someone else’s highlight reel.

Those actions may feel comforting in the moment, but they often lead to deeper sadness. Instead, try one small act of love toward yourself: get outside, talk to someone safe, or write your feelings down. Your story deserves space. And you are worth protecting — even from your own negative thoughts.

I Know the Ache

As someone who has always longed for a joyful household — a loving husband, shared holidays with our children, warm traditions, laughter — Mother’s Day often cuts deep. I am a celebratory person. I enjoy family time. But this holiday can feel like a reminder of everything I’ve longed for and lost or never had.

My youngest daughter is full of joy and eager to celebrate me, and for that I am deeply grateful. But my oldest daughter doesn’t talk to me. Not because of anything I did, but because she was manipulated by so-called “Christians” — people who wear the mask of faith but lack the fruits of the Spirit.

These wolves in sheep’s clothing can be some of the most damaging forces to a hurting soul. They twist scripture, shame people into submission, and break hearts in the name of righteousness. And in moments of vulnerability — like on Mother's Day — their toxicity hits hardest.

If someone makes you feel worse about yourself every time you're around them, they are toxic to your spirit. Family or not, church folk or not — you are not required to subject yourself to emotional or spiritual abuse.

These people are like a flesh-eating virus — they consume your confidence, corrode your peace, and leave you questioning your worth. Stay away from them, especially if you're already navigating depression. Guard your heart.

A Word on “Being Yourself”

Be yourself, yes — but not at the cost of someone else's dignity. If being "yourself" means harming, mocking, or belittling others (especially marginalized groups like the People of Color Community including the Black, Latino, Hispanic, Chuukese, and LGBTQ+ community), then it's time to self-reflect. It’s basic: if you can't say something kind, don't say anything at all.

Kindergarten rules still apply.

For Those Who Have Lost Loved Ones

To the mothers who have buried their children…

To the women who have miscarried in silence…

To the partners grieving the one who used to make Mother's Day special…

I see you. I honor you. I am with you.

It is one thing to love, but another entirely to have loved and lost. That pain is sacred. And while it may feel like God has forgotten you — I promise you, He hasn't. There is a plan for your life, even when it doesn’t make sense.

I speak from experience. There are no coincidences. Only divine interventions. Life, death, grief, healing — it’s all connected. Just like my favorite shows Flashpoint and Numb3rs taught me: one event leads to another, unraveling deeper meaning over time. It’s all interconnected. You are not forgotten.

Scriptures for the Wounded Soul

Here are some scriptures that have uplifted me. I pray they bring you even a flicker of peace:

• Psalm 34:18 – “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

• Isaiah 66:13 – “As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you…”

• John 16:22 – “So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.”

• Romans 8:28 – “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him…”

• Lamentations 3:22-23 – “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning…”

(Feel free to read more versions of these verses on BibleGateway.)

Coping Skills for Mother’s Day Grief and Depression

When emotions feel heavy, coping skills can become lifelines. If you're in the Pacific Northwest like I am — specifically Vancouver, WA — you know that the constant rain and gray skies can deepen the weight of sadness. But lately, we’ve been blessed with sunshine. Use it. Let the light touch your skin and remind you that you're still here. Go on a walk through Esther Short Park, take a bike ride along the Columbia River, or visit the Fort Vancouver National Historic Site and breathe in some fresh air. The trees are in bloom, and nature has a way of gently reminding us that life still moves — even when we're stuck.

For those nationwide, don’t underestimate the power of movement and creativity. Listen to uplifting music — gospel, soul, R&B, instrumental, whatever lifts your spirit. Take a walk around your block or a local trail. Ride your bike. Draw a picture. Write out your feelings, even if it’s just for yourself. Dance. Sing. Journal. Go to your nearest park, even if it’s small — nature is free therapy. And if you're stuck indoors, try deep breathing exercises, watch an inspiring documentary, or FaceTime someone you trust. These may feel small, but they can shift your entire energy.

You Are Not Alone

This Mother's Day, honor your grief. Honor your healing. Protect your peace. You don’t have to pretend this day is joyful — but you also don’t have to drown in the pain. Reach out. Make a plan. Find one moment to hold onto hope.

Even in sorrow, you are seen.

Even in silence, you are heard.

Even in brokenness, you are still loved.

With tenderness,

Lẹwa Ubunifu