I’ve been trying to write a new blog post for a few weeks. I have a couple started, but I can’t seem to get them to a level that is coherent enough to publish. Like many of you, I am frequently out of spoons. But I wrote this on my personal Facebook page this morning, and based on the responses I got, I thought it was worth sharing here too. Here goes:

I’m drowning in the Mother’s Day posts. I haven’t spoken to my mother at all in about six months; I don’t know if I will again. We’re supposed to take today to honor the women who raised us (slight tangent: If your mom really is great, why is it limited to one day a year?), so I’m going to do just that. I’d like you to meet her—not the person who brought me into this world, but the one who kept me alive this long. The one who taught me to cook for myself, to care for my clothes so they weren’t ruined after a couple washes. Who taught me that I deserve better, that my words and ideas matter, and that giving myself credit is not a sin. I’d like you to meet her—and you already have. She’s me.

Part of therapy is learning to parent ourselves—this is beneficial to everyone but especially for those whose primary caregivers were inadequate. This is not an attack on anyone (there are always reasons why parents did what they did)—this is allowing myself to take up space and take credit for getting to this point. I hope that doing so gives someone else permission to do the same. And having said this, I didn’t do it alone. To every woman who has helped to parent me (not in the ways you’d expect but in the ways that really mattered), thank you. I’m going to try to tag all of you in the comments.

I wasn’t sure what to expect. Lectures about being an ungrateful daughter? Mass unfriendings? Just silence? My digestive system, which has been raising hell since COVID-19 became a thing in our lives, kicked the chaos up a notch. I waited.

And then people started to see the post, and the likes and loves flooded in. Most of the women tagged said such kind things to me, as did other friends who wanted to support me. It was a beautiful reminder that vulnerability is one of the greatest strengths a person can have. When you are open about who you are and what you’re experiencing, you take away the power from those who try to shame and silence you. You shine in speaking your truth. As zebras and spoonies, we’ve experienced so much of this, including dismissal and gaslighting, so often we silence ourselves. Sometimes we have supportive parents who help us in this struggle; sometimes (as in my case) our parents are some of the biggest gaslighters.

Wherever you fit in the examples above, know that you are not alone and your voice matters. Whatever your relationship to motherhood and your mother, I hope you had at least a moment of peace and love today. And if you didn’t, please believe that you are good and loving enough to give that to yourself exactly as you are.

There’s also no shame in needing help to figure it all out. If you’d like to talk to a therapist, you can reach me here.

Christy Olson, MSW, LICSW, is a therapist who specializes in supporting clients who live with chronic illness and chronic pain. She enjoys making to-do lists and then ignoring her own instructions, and she really hopes the tales of the murder hornets are greatly exaggerated. Learn how to become a client by clicking here.