Yes, Mother's Day Can Trigger You: Here's How to Reclaim It

For many people, Mother’s Day is a Hallmark moment—a day of flowers, brunches, and cards with carefully worded gratitude. But for post-traumatic parents, it’s often far more complicated.

Recently, a post-traumatic parent sent me a DM that captures the bittersweet experience so many of us navigate. She wrote, “I want to enjoy the day. I want to celebrate being the mother I always wished I’d had. But there’s also sadness—sadness for my inner child who didn’t get what my child now receives so freely.”

That one message spoke volumes, because it reflects something I hear again and again in the post-traumatic parenting groups I’ve led over the years. Mother’s Day, for many, is not a simple celebration—it’s a complex blend of joy, grief, pride, and ache.

The Word “Mother” Can Feel Loaded

When you’ve grown up with unmet needs, inconsistent care, or even outright trauma, the word mother itself can stir ambivalence. For some, it’s a longing for what never was; for others, it’s a word that triggers pain, guilt, or loss.

And yet, when we step into the role of mother ourselves—as post-traumatic parents determined to break cycles and parent with intention—we face a new challenge: how to reconcile what we are giving to our children with what we never received.

It’s a strange tension. On the one hand, we are proud of the healing we are creating for our children. On the other, we are acutely aware of the absence that shaped us. In psychology, we call this "developmental trauma." It's not acute traumatic experiences—it's the little things that didn't happen, due to the big things that did.

Mother's Day With a Mother Wound

Mother's Day can be triggering for post-traumatic parents. That's OK. Here's how to reclaim the day.

Source: fizkes/123RF

For some post-traumatic parents, this complexity comes from an explicit mother wound—being mothered by someone who was herself unhealed, experiencing emotional or physical neglect, or growing up in a home where the mother’s psychological fragility forced the child into the role of caregiver. For these parents, Mother’s Day can stir not only grief, but also the painful, often unspoken struggle of holding the dialectic: loving a mother who also caused harm. As Alice Miller wrote, “We are forbidden to notice that our parents harmed us. This knowledge is blocked by our need to idealize them, which derives from our childhood.”

It’s important to say: This experience doesn’t apply to every post-traumatic parent, but for those it does apply to, the tenderness of Mother’s Day may feel especially raw.

Mother’s Day as a Day of Both/And

One of the greatest truths I share with the parents in my groups is this: You can hold more than one emotion at the same time.

• You can love being a mother while also mourning the mother you didn’t have.
• You can celebrate the home you’ve created while grieving the one you grew up in.
• You can bask in your child’s arms thrown around your neck while feeling an ache deep in your own inner child.

This is what it means to be a post-traumatic parent on Mother’s Day: It’s both joyous and sad. And honoring that complexity is not only OK—it’s profoundly human.

Why It Can Feel Even Harder When You’re Breaking Cycles

Cycle-breaking parents are intensely intentional. We think about our children’s emotional needs, we reflect on our responses, we read, we learn, we repair. And while this is a beautiful, courageous path, it also comes with a hidden cost: Every time you give your child something you never received, it highlights your own deprivation.

That gap between “what I am giving” and “what I was given” can feel raw, especially on a day like Mother’s Day—a day meant to honor mothers and, implicitly, the lineage of mothering.

But here’s what I tell the parents I work with:
When you break a cycle, you are not betraying your past; you are redeeming it. You are making sure that the pain stops with you. And that is a profound form of honor—even if it comes wrapped in grief. (For more on healing from a painful childhood, click here.)

Reclaiming Mother’s Day as Your Own

So, how can post-traumatic parents approach Mother’s Day in a way that honors both joy and sorrow?

• Acknowledge the “both/and.” You don’t have to push away the sadness to make room for the joy. Say to yourself, “Today I celebrate being the mother I always wanted, and I honor the grief of what I didn’t have.” Naming both can be incredibly freeing.
• Give your inner child a seat at the table. Mother’s Day can be a beautiful time to consciously offer kindness to your own inner child. Write her a note, light a candle, or simply pause to say, “You are seen, too.”
• Let the day be imperfect. You don’t need to curate a perfect Instagram moment. It’s OK if you want the celebration and also need space for reflection or even tears.
• Draw on your community. Share your feelings with other cycle-breaking parents. One of the most healing experiences is realizing you are not alone in this.

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You Are Already the Mother You Hoped For

As a psychologist, I want to say this clearly: You do not have to earn Mother’s Day by being a perfect mother. You already deserve it. Simply by showing up, by reflecting, by choosing to be intentional, you are offering your children something transformative.

Your inner child may never fully heal from the losses of the past, but your current self is creating a home where love, safety, and attunement are the norm, not the exception. That is worthy of celebration.

So if you are a post-traumatic parent reading this, here’s my invitation: Reclaim Mother’s Day as your own. Let it be messy. Let it hold both joy and grief. Let it be a day that honors not only who you are to your children, but also the quiet, heroic work you’ve done to break cycles and heal yourself along the way.

Because you—not just as a mother, but as a whole, healing person—are worth celebrating. (For more on post-traumatic parenting, click here.)