Happy Day

I'm going to say Happy Mother's Day. What I mean is Happy Whatever You Want This To Be Day.

That's because, for a variety of reasons, Mother's Day has historically been one of my least favorite days of the year. This and the anniversary of my father's death pretty much fill me with the same feeling of anticipation and "please just let the day pass." What is meant to celebrate the women of our lives turns out to be more often a day of pleasing everyone else and stress, and reminders of things I wish not to be reminded of.

So today I am looking past the women that feel beloved and get showered with flowers and brunch and mimosas. Today I write a blog to the unseen woman. I say Happy Day to the woman who wants desperately to be a mother but has had years of infertility. I say Happy Day to the woman who loved and lost their mother. The woman who floats through their life unseen by her husband and children. The woman who chose not to have children because she knows she would be a selfish mother - dare I say, you made the most motherly of sacrifices that society demonized you for when they should be admiring you.

I say Happy Day to the young girl that just wants to escape her emotionally abusive mother and the girl that dreams more about becoming a doctor than what her wedding dress will look like. Happy Day to the mother of babies who gets up for another exhausting night of breastfeeding and crying. Happy Day to the men that allowed us to be the mothers we want to be. Happy Day to the women who decided to take a different path than the one their family expected them to.

Happy Day to the women who have lost children and cannot bear to see this day roll around and remind them of all they have lost. To the single mother and single daughter and the lonely woman who cannot seem to meet the right partner. To the woman who lives in the shadows and lives by the rules that someone else set for her. The ones who are trapped and the ones who are free. The ones who dream for more or are pleased and gratified because they demanded it. To the women who fight, who fail, succeed, and who keep trying.

All of us should be recognized, for all we encompass and all we choose. The life of the unseen woman is maybe more common than the one this day of breakfast in bed represents. The unseen woman is all of us. Today, I see you.

Cheers to you.