Mother’s Day 2023 didn’t look the way I imagined.
Unusual circumstances left me alone not with my mom, not with my child. Even my husband was in the hospital that day. The weight of it all, the expectations, the images of what the day “should” be weighed heavily on me. I felt lonely and lost.
Mother’s Day is supposed to be full of flowers, brunches, family photos. But what happens when real life doesn’t match the script?
At first, I did what I always do: I tried to fix it. I jumped to an activity to avoid sitting with the discomfort and fear that surrounded my day.
I took myself to a bookstore, wandering the self-help aisles, hoping for something to lift the day. Another book, another plan for how to be better.
Then, something caught my eye across the store, in the children’s section.
A stuffed blue rabbit, plush and soft with floppy ears.
It was unexpected. It wasn’t on the list of things I thought I needed.
But right there, in the middle of the bookstore, something inside me softened.
I didn’t need another book telling me how to improve.
I needed that rabbit.
Before my inner critic could jump in and stop me from “wasting” $17.99 on a stuffed animal. I whipped out my credit card and bought it. I all but skipped to my car with my blue rabbit in tow. When I got to my car, I sat my new blue friend on the dashboard and did something I hadn’t done in years: I wrote a poem.
A bad one. Silly. Nonsensical. Playful.
And somehow, that little act changed everything.
For much of my life, I chased perfection.
It started early, sitting under studio lights as a young TV anchor, trying to be flawless. Every mistake felt huge. Every fumble, a failure. And when I wasn’t perfect enough, I got bullied for it.
The message was clear: work harder, fix yourself, be better.
And like many of us, I bought into it.
I internalized the idea that worth comes from achievement, from meeting expectations, from doing it “right.”
Especially on days like Mother’s Day.
But what that day with the rabbit showed me was this:
Self-worth isn’t something you earn. It’s something you uncover when you nurture yourself—exactly as you are, exactly where you are.
I had started to learn this years earlier through art journaling. After burning out in a high-pressure corporate career, I found myself in an art class, smearing paint onto a page without a plan. It was messy. Ugly, even.
But in that mess, I found relief.
I didn’t need to fix it.
I didn’t need to fix myself.
I just needed to be there with whatever was true.
Mothering yourself isn’t always about bubble baths and spa days—although those can be wonderful, too.
Sometimes, mothering yourself means letting go of the idea that you have to get it right.
It means choosing presence over perfection.
This Mother’s Day—or any day—you might want to try it, too.
- Write a ridiculous poem.
- Paint without worrying about the result.
- Buy yourself something silly.
- Play.
It might feel awkward at first.
But on the other side of that awkwardness, there’s a doorway:
To joy.
To breath.
To the quiet reminder that you’re enough—without needing to prove it.
Because sometimes, the best way to honor Mother’s Day is simply to mother yourself.
-Susan
Susan Hensley is an author, workshop leader, and coach who uses art journaling as a tool to help others navigate life’s transitions. In her former careers, she was an HR executive and broadcast journalist.