Navigating Mother’s Day When It Feels Complicated

If you’ve been feeling overwhelmed lately, you’re not alone. Mother’s Day can be complicated — for a lot of us. The mother-daughter relationship often ends up being a “call-a-therapist” kind of thing at some point in our lives. It’s beautiful, yes — but it’s also layered, messy, emotional, and sometimes painful.

Since July 2024, my world has been turned upside down as my mom’s lung cancer has progressed throughout her body. Anticipatory grief and anger have become daily companions, and I often find myself thinking:

“I don’t want to celebrate another holiday knowing it might be my last with her.”

Just as my book on mother-daughter relationships was preparing to launch last fall — a book she proudly contributed to with her own section, Sprinkles of Bliss — my mom was undergoing radiation treatment.

My mom, like many of my clients’ moms, has had a massive influence on who I am — for better and sometimes for worse. And even though I’ve been in therapy since first grade, I’ll admit: I’ve often been the first to throw her under the bus for the mistakes she made.

Being a therapist while walking through your own personal storms is complicated. But this year, through my own healing journey with my mom, my passion for helping repair mother-daughter bonds has only deepened.

Shayna and her mom, Kappie Bliss, 2018

Mothers make mistakes. Some have battled addiction, mental health challenges, or trauma — struggles we may never fully understand.

Most mothers live in constant, silent fear of everything that could go wrong. They protect their children the best way they know how — even when it doesn’t look perfect.

Forgiveness doesn’t always mean reconciliation. You can forgive in therapy, in prayer, in writing. You can hold compassion for the woman who shaped you without pretending the relationship is something it’s not.

Forgiveness frees you, too.

Self-care isn’t about flowers, spa days, or a “World’s Best Mom” mug. It’s deep, emotional maintenance: boundaries, rest, connection, and permission to not always hold it all together.

Recently, I visited my old school, Cedar Creek Elementary. The counselor had organized a self-care day for teachers — who are often “second mothers” to our kids.

We painted with watercolors and reflected on what self-care really means. These amazing caregivers shared how they stay grounded and resilient while caring for 25+ students each day.

A local psychiatrist and influencer, Dr. Pooja Lakshmin, shared the four pillars of real self-care, reminding us:

Self-care is survival. Not selfishness.

Mothers don’t need another scented candle. They need the freedom to say no, to ask for help, and to rest without guilt.

Mothers need access to mental health support, parenting guidance, and spaces that lift them up instead of tearing them down.

At ATFG, we speak daily with moms who are desperate to help their daughters — and who are convinced every challenge is their fault.

Society is quick to label moms as “toxic” without understanding the fear, love, and survival instincts that drive them.

Let’s give mothers a break. Let’s stop demanding perfection — and start offering compassion.

My book released in September — Pink Chaos — is a love letter to the complicated, beautiful, messy mother-daughter relationship.

My mom even wrote her own section, Sprinkles of Bliss (her last name is Bliss), offering a grandmother’s perspective that makes me tear up every time I read it.

At ATFG, on our pink couches, we hold space for mothers to cry, rage, laugh, and heal — without judgment. And we want you to know we got your back.
Even if things feel tense with your daughter right now, the goal isn’t to push each other away — it’s to find better ways to talk and reconnect.

Because behind every strong daughter is a mother who fought her own battles.

She deserves to be celebrated every day — not just with a brunch she probably planned herself.