I’ve been reading a lot of articles this week by moms who say that Mother’s Day is a Hallmark holiday and they don’t support it. They say that they don’t need flowers to be reminded that they are loved and being a mom is no different than being anyone else so there is no need to be celebrated.
I’m calling bullshit.
I call this such a major case of bullshit that if we were in a pasture we’d all be drowning in it right now.
We say we don’t like Mother’s Day because we are scared.
We are scared of being let down and forgotten about and unimportant.
We are also embarrassed to assume that we could deserve such an honour.
And we are simply too fatigued by all the continuous moments to rightfully claim a day that is ours.
We say we don’t like Mother’s Day for the same reason we say we don’t like Valentines Day. We fucking LOVE a day dedicated to romance, we just don’t want to be disappointed, so we put up a thin shield of protection, call it a co-opted holiday and get on with it.
This thin shield is raised many times in a mother’s day. For little insignificant things, like when the kids don’t like the lunch we make them. It’s raised for the medium sized things, like when the spouse is 10 min late from work again and that means we just tipped over the edge into cray (or it’s because you don’t have a spouse and people who complain about spouses being 10 min late should be stabbed); and we raise it for the big things, like when you don’t fucking honour your mother.
I’m going to get really extreme now.
Mother’s Day is the most important day of the year.
It requests us to bow down.
It’s a cultural ritual that calls us to consider who made us and to be grateful for it.
It’s an opportunity for women to celebrate each other and the work we do mothering our children, our friends, our pets and our lovers.
And this day doesn’t have to stop at women who are parents. Let’s send respect to all the people who have nurtured and protected you. Men, women, old, single, trans; I don’t give a shit who you are; we all mother.
And I imagine that once a year this deep honouring of mothers will then soak into the soil and seep through the cracks and feed The Great Mother herself; because she needs it.
So let’s start with one Goddamed day shall we? Let’s start with one woman we love, and let’s prostrate to her like she’s the effin’ queen.
No shit, I promise you, if you serve her, she will soften. The thin shield of protection will lower, and we will all collectively sob in relief.