Childless Not by Choice: Navigating Mother's Day

Mother's Day can be heavy when you are childless not by choice. The opt-out emails seemed (to me at least) to arrive earlier this year, which although appreciated in intention, still act as a reminder of what's coming.

The day is presented as a time of joy and gratitude, and for many within the CNBC community there is also a real desire to honour their own mothers and the important women in their lives. At the same time, women without children are too often cast as either selfish (still the reluctant villains of the day) or victims, which can make it feel necessary to perform "okayness" rather than simply feel what you feel.

Hence the lead-up and the day itself can still be confusing. One part of you might say it's just a commercial event, not worth the energy. Another part might feel invisible. If you say something, are you being anti-mum? If you say nothing, are you back in what can be a familiar isolation?

If this resonates: you are not the problem.

What many women feel around Mother's Day is grief — and warrants being named as such. The pain, sense of loss, and even anger that comes with involuntary childlessness is a natural part of the grieving process. 

It is also disenfranchised grief — grief that society doesn't always acknowledge or make space for. There is no ceremony, no card, no recognised moment of loss. That can make the grief feel even more isolating, particularly on a day when everyone around you seems to be celebrating.

Approximately 1 in 5 women who have completed their childbearing years are childless — yet in a pro-natalist culture, it may feel like you are entirely alone in this experience.

You didn't choose this

The path to motherhood is not straightforward for many women. Infertility, pregnancy loss, health conditions, or circumstances and relationships that didn't unfold as hoped, so much of this is outside your control. Mother's Day shines a spotlight on those realities, and when it does, it makes complete sense that the day feels complicated.

Be gentle with yourself.

Do what you need to get through the day. Take a moment to acknowledge any grief or pain that surfaces, and let the rest wait.

Some things that can help:

• Set quiet boundaries — it's okay to decline gatherings or conversations that feel like too much. And its ok to do so without extensive explaining of your reasons.

• Step back from social media — muting apps or limiting your time online can ease the emotional weight of the day.

• Make a plan — having something to look forward to, whether that's time outdoors, a favourite film, or a quiet day at home, can make the day feel more manageable.

• Connect with others who understand — whether a trusted friend or an online community, being with people who get it can make a real difference.

• Acknowledge what comes up — sometimes sitting with the emotion, rather than pushing through it, is what's needed. If this feels too much a guided meditation such as RAIN can be a great middle ground.

• Most of all: give yourself permission to approach the day in whatever way looks after you.

If you'd like a space to explore these feelings with someone who understands, counselling can offer exactly that — somewhere you don't have to explain yourself or minimise what you're going through.