I’ve long been fascinated by the way that we view motherhood in our society. Often lauded as the ultimate beneficial experience a person with a uterus can have, many feel constrained by the expectations and lack of agency that traditional Western motherhood evokes. So many feelings and expectations are tied to the role. Some of our most evocative expressions called to mind mothers, from vocalizing our shock when we say in Italian, “Mamma Mia!” to even some of the most popular swear words; clearly, the mother is an archetype tied to visceral responses.
It’s probably then no surprise that May is also mental health awareness month. A time when we reflect on how our feelings and our ability to process the world around us impacts every facet of our lives. Our mothers call to mind feelings of protection, nurturing, and, for many, also complicated shadows of disappointment or hurt. We learn what love and emotional regulation means through our interactions with our primary caregivers, as multifaceted as that might be. If we are mothers ourselves, we probably feel strongly about how motherhood is treated in our society. The fact that we live in a nation that is considered highly industrialized, in fact, the richest nation on earth, but still denies mothers essential resources, such as paid leave after giving birth, or a true acceptance of the multiple roles they hold while working and caring for a family, is disheartening, to say the least. We expect so much from the people we call Mom, and yet, how often do people forget to vote in their best interest? How often do we take for granted the sacrifices that they made to form us into the beings that we are today?
My own mother has been my rock throughout my entire time on this planet. She was a single mom for over 20 years and completely committed her life to raising me. She would work nights as a nurse so she could be present and volunteer at my school and church during the day. Sleeping less than four hours an afternoon I only barely understood her level of exhaustion as a child. As an adult, and a formerly single mother of over seven years myself, I see the level of commitment that she made to make me the person I am today. I was also fortunate to be raised by her mother, who watched me in between her working hours, and my aunt, who also cared for me as if I were her own.
In the study of death and dying, we find that the number one thing that people say as their last words is some version of Mom. A number of years ago, during the Black Lives Matter protests, the stories of many victims ended with their cries for their mothers as they took their last breath under the literal and metaphorical weight of white supremacy. Is mother simply a title or is it an invocation? I personally see it more as the latter than anything else, a rally cry and prayer all on one syllable. When we call on our mother, we call on all moms/mamas/emas. Past, present, near, and far, we asked for the spirit of that which cares for us with its whole heart and whole being to be present in our moment of need.
It is mothers who have put together the pieces that create the image of who I am today. They are simply people, full of their own flaws and limitations; yet I see them as a true reflection of what the Goddess’s love is to me. When I speak their name, I invoke her power. I ask a special prayer to be uplifted for mothers the world often forgets: those incarcerated, trans moms, mothers who lost their children, and those still longing for the blessing of caring for young lives. Let us take this time to remember the power that resides in the sacred calling of motherhood, beautiful in its perfect imperfections.