One Vogue editor shares her memorable experience of celebrating Mother's Day after several years of being out of contact with her own mum.
Every year, with the beauty of spring blossom and sunnier days, comes the familiar dread of Mother’s Day. Endless commercialised treat-your-mum advertisements, a continuous flow of press releases in my inbox, the social-media takeover of dedications to the hundreds of Best Mums In The World. Each is a fresh stab to my heart.
My relationship with my mother has been difficult, and as a result so is my feeling towards this national celebration of mothers. My mum and I were never close. We never saw eye to eye, and it’s something I grew up fighting to fix.
The battle for a healthy relationship was very much one-sided, and at 16 I moved out of home. After an on-off struggle of trying to keep in touch, I realised that the volatile and upsetting nature of our conversations was never worth the few upsides. Around four years ago, I came to the conclusion that perhaps we were not destined to be in each other’s lives, and I haven’t heard from her since.
On most other days of the year - apart from Christmas, when I inevitably shed a tear - I am OK. I am happier without the fear of what she may say next hanging over my head. I am grateful that she is healthy and looking after my two brothers. I know in my heart that I would not be where I am today had we still been in contact. I find strength in the parts of me she saw as weaknesses. But Mother’s Day… Mother’s Day I just cannot crack. It continues to bring out a longing in me, an instinct to run to a mum and thank her for all she has done for me. A need to join the flood of social-media tributes by sharing cute pictures of younger, giggling versions of us.
I would love to say that I have a coping mechanism down for this time of year, but in truth it just depends on the mood I wake up in. Some days my sass comes out and I abuse Mother’s Day sales to treat myself. Other days I fight back tears at talk of mother-daughter activities.
This year, I have a plan to actively use Mother's Day to celebrate myself and all I have achieved, despite that missing pillar of support in my life. Whether on my own or with loved ones, I will make sure to take a moment to be grateful for all of the opportunities I have been given, and honestly congratulate myself for remaining strong in those first few years. I will pamper myself – a bubble bath, some candles, a glass of wine, a face mask and a classic rom-com. Celebrating Mother’s Day, for me, is about marking that relationship in any light, mine just happens to cast shadows in a different direction.
I thank those who have held me up when I desperately needed it, and pushed me forward. Amy, Danielle, Sharon, Keeley, Hannah – these women actively fill the void that my mum left, and I am wholeheartedly grateful every single day. I am honoured to have these women in my life, on this day more than ever.
As for my mother, I hope she is waking up to the smell of fresh bacon and a glass of orange juice. I hope someone’s booked a spa day for her, and I hope the boys have bought her flowers and written heartfelt cards. I hope she does nothing except watch Tom Cruise films all evening and that someone’s cooked up a classic Sunday roast - even though it could never beat her own. I hope she doesn’t have to lift a finger. And I hope she thinks of me and smiles at the good memories, like I do about her.
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