Sometimes a day away feels less like a getaway and more like a quiet escape. I packed light—just the things that bring me comfort. My favorite skincare staples, the ones I never leave behind: Biossance Probiotic Gel Moisturizer and the Vitamin C Rose Oil. They’ve become more than products; they’re little rituals that remind me to care for myself even when life feels heavy.
This time of year always weighs on me. May is beautiful—the flowers, the warmer days, the long stretches of golden sunlight—but it also carries a shadow. Holidays have never been something I gravitate toward. I forget them, or I intentionally avoid them. Two, in particular, have always been difficult: Christmas and Mother’s Day. And if I’m honest, Mother’s Day has always been the hardest.
I don’t have a relationship with my biological mother, and the bond with my foster mom is distant at best. “Casual” is the only word I can use—maybe three conversations since I left the foster care system. Each year when Mother’s Day comes around, I feel that familiar ache, the reminder of what I never had. My subconscious buries the date, but my heart always seems to remember.
Not long ago, I experienced a rejection that stung more than I expected. I had been considered for a photography project—a campaign shoot I was so excited about. Even though I knew the odds, given that much of my portfolio is self-directed work, the “no” still hit hard. I looked at my phone, blank screen staring back, and realized what hurt the most wasn’t the rejection itself. It was the sudden, piercing awareness that I had no mom to call.
So I played a little game with myself, one I’ve come to rely on more often than I’d like to admit: What Would a Mom Say? In my mind, I imagined the encouragement I wish I could hear: Don’t give up, honey. Work on your craft. Work smarter, work harder. I believe in you. Even in the pretend version, it ended with, I love you. And that was enough to make me break down.
Mother’s Day is difficult for Colin too. His mom passed away from cancer when he was only eight. He still carries her memory close, and when he speaks about her, I can feel the weight in his words. Loss has a way of shaping us both gently and sharply.
And then there’s Sammie, my little cat. He came into my life when he was six months old, abandoned and on the brink of being euthanized due to a respiratory issue. Somehow, our broken pieces recognized each other. We’ve been a family ever since. Colin once joked with him, “So, Sammie, what are you getting Mom for Mother’s Day?” The thought made me smile in a way that filled all the empty corners.
That’s the thing—I may not have a traditional connection with motherhood, but my life has been enriched by the women around me who embody the spirit of it. Strong, fearless, generous women who nurture, who inspire, who redefine what it means to be whole. When I think of “motherhood” now, I see it less as a role and more as a spectrum. It’s women who mother children. Women who mother animals. Women who mother communities and dreams. Women who mother themselves through difficult seasons.
I’m grateful to Biossance for giving me the space to share this. When the topic of Mother’s Day first came up, I worried my perspective might not fit. Instead, they welcomed my truth and encouraged me to write from the heart. That kind of empathy is rare, and it reminded me that the idea of “mother” can stretch far beyond biology.
So today, this is my message to all of you:
To the women who are mothers, and the women who long to be.
To the women who have lost their mothers, and those who never knew them.
To the women who are redefining what motherhood means in their own lives.
To the women who carry love in their hearts for children, for animals, for friends, for the world.
Happy Mother’s Day, in whatever form that word takes for you. May it be a reminder of resilience, of love, of connection. May it bring you softness where you need it most, and strength when you least expect it.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get to wear the title “mom” in the traditional sense, but I do know this: I have been surrounded, supported, and shaped by women who embody its essence every day. And for that, I am endlessly grateful.
So here’s to all of us—nurturers, dreamers, fighters, caretakers. Here’s to the women who mother in ways seen and unseen. And here’s to finding love, even in the places where it once felt absent.
Because maybe, at the end of the day, “motherhood” is less about a word, and more about the ways we choose to love.
