Your poem speaks to so many of the silent "ghost" mothers. I know a number of mothers who children fell to addiction and became criminals, some who have been in and out of the prison system and others who have been in and out of homelessness. The mothers all internalize and blame themselves to some degree, and still they love, no matter what. That's what it means to be a mother. to love, no matter what.
Teri Leigh, I often hear that you hold a wellspring of stories. Just the bits you share in the comments or on Notes, and I am instantly fascinated, in awe, questions swirling in my mind. I wish I could talk to you and ask them in real time.
You are right, and to your point, I want to generalize for a moment and say I believe that all women somehow internalize and blame ourselves. We live in a society that imposes impossible expectations upon us, so how could we not? It’s an incredible testament to the power of women everywhere that we have not only survived, but we are learning how to flourish.
we all have a wellspring of stories within us. I have just practiced (and come from a legacy of storytellers) the skill. Stories spill out of me. And soon enough, we will share stories together in real time!
and yes, women are phenomenal in all we face and how we stay strong and true in ourselves.
My bonus daughter is childless. Some kind of clock is telling her that the time is almost up. She has been pregnant a few times but lost all of them early. Her sister has two children along with grandkids. She gets depressed and has trouble holding a job. She has come to the realization that she may not have children. Sometimes she will walk up and want my wife or myself to get a hug.
the word tenderness is all about nursing the wound. There's the sharpness of the wound in the sharp t and thudding d...but the soft N and S sounds are the healing. You just provided me and all the readers with that tiny dose of healing.
Paul, thank you for sharing this. The fact that your bonus daughter asks for hugs is a sign of your depth of relationship with her. Being the sibling that doesn't have kids when the others do, it's very difficult. There's an invisibility that happens that is completely unexplainable.
Thanks for everything you shared here, Sam. When Teri Leigh and I were in conversation about this - based in large part on a few of my recent Notes and essays, where I wrote I didn't want to be a mother and then had five kids - I realized her story carries so much truth in it and it's a story that I knew would resonate with many.
Thank you for the acknowledgment of my poem, too. That means a lot.
When you wrote, "I feel like a ghost mother. Real and present, but see-through," it struck a deep chord with me. Isn't that the paradox of so so many experiences that society doesn’t quite have a category for?
You are undeniably present, you are giving, nurturing, and loving, aand yet because it doesn’t fit into the prescribed mold, it’s almost as if society turns a blind eye. But just as ghosts are believed to carry echoes and energies, so too does your form of motherhood. It’s hauntingly beautiful and powerful, and maybe it's time we acknowledge that 'see-through' doesn't mean 'insignificant'... it simply means society hasn’t yet learned to see it clearly.
Alex, you always share such supportive and resonant thoughts! I know you and Teri Leigh are close, and I'm glad her piece spoke to you in this way.
I also shared with her that I wrote an essay last fall, which I haven't published, entitled "ghost mother." It just came to me. And so this was the exact phrase that jumped out at me in her essay, too, today.
I hope I can, too, Teri Leigh. I’m debating on whether to get it published in a lit mag or just do it on Substack. Maybe you would take a look at it and let me know what you think?
Alex, thank you for reframing this for me. See-through IS hauntingly beautiful. In my shamanic work, it is the hauntingly beautiful, the quietly secret, the under-the-surface truth that is the most profound and powerful medicine as well as the most long lasting.
When I was reading this post I realized how intertwined mothers and daughters can be. I think it gives me more joy to give to my daughter than it does to receive from her. Though I love that, too. But I couldn't feel that kind of peace and happiness
without her. We're a dyad. I'm guessing your mother is the same; she needs your love. It's a partnership.
OTOH, I'm not sure I'll ever have grandkids, much as I would cherish them. So I've adopted our neighbor girl. I'm sure it's not the same, but it fills my need.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that people without children are not less than. And having a career is having a career, not an equivalent. Every relationship needs two people, and though you are not in a relationship with birth children, you are just as necessary in other relationships. And it sounds like you have mothered brilliantly.
Wow, Kai, that's a poignant truth you wrote - that every relationship needs two people, and those relationships are often fraught and complicated (like between mother and daughter, as you said). That really was a stunning insight. Thank you.
Kai - I totally agree with you that mothers and daughters have a deep intertwining. I can just see it energetically as I read your words. when I look at my bloodline and all the blessings my grandmother had that her mother didn't have, and all the things she gave my mother that she didn't have...and then how my mother gave me what she didn't have, there is a joy that mothers must feel in giving to their daughters what they couldn't have for themselves. It's both a living vicariously through and a threading on of the legacy. I see it differently in mothers/daughters than in fathers/sons or fathers/daugthers or mothers/son.
This was gorgeous and I have now subbed to Teri, so thank you for this gorgeous merging of two beautiful souls. I chose to remain child-free in this lifetime, something I've never regretted, but it was a choice that came from my sensitivity to the sorrow in the world even though I also see the beauty and joy. My best friend often says to me that "I'm the best mother she knows" because I honored that voice inside me that told me not to procreate. Like so many mothers without human children there is still so much mothering to do be done in this world. All of that mothering matters, however we choose to do it (or however it chooses to actualize because sometimes it isn't a choice).
Stephanie, thank you for subscribing to my publication as a result of this. Means the world to me! There is so much mothering to be done in this world. And all of it matters. While I tried to have children in different ways, ultimately, I chose not to because the circumstances were never right...and my mother was needed in different ways.
That's really a beautiful rendering of your choice to be childless Stephanie, and I want you to know I appreciate you sharing that in my Substack space. Plus, how happy I am that Teri found a new subscriber from sharing her story here. ♥️
Oh my word. Beautifully written. The heart is so deep in its capacity to feel, and heal. Mothering, whomever and wherever it is needed, is the reflection of a woman’s innate need to love. Thank you for sharing this. Mind if I tuck it away so I can read it over and over again? Happy Mother’s Day! ❤️
Kelly, yes! Share and read it as often as you want. I'm so glad Teri Leigh's essay reached a part of you that found so much resonance. She put into words the experience of many, many people, I believe.
Thank you so much for your creativity and open trusting. You have given voice to so many emotions that women experience. It reminds me of the call to live on the outside and reach people who are not mainstream. You are worthy as a woman and a mother, and your contributions are invaluable to all of society. I loved your poem, Jeannie. My heart is so full right now, and it is not because I am being spoiled by my children. It is full because I appreciate all that I have been given on this day from unexpected sources.
Wow, Susan, that's the power of the maternal heart isn't it? This love today soars and spreads and I just want to say that I'm deeply humbled and grateful that Teri Leigh's story (and thanks for mentioning my poem, too) resonated so deeply with you in such a satisfying way.
Susan, I can feel, through your words here, the fullness of your heart. Thank you for sharing that with me. It is the fullness of the human experience, all the pieces of it, that make me feel most alive.
Teri, what a poignant essay about being childless and yet nurturing many "parentless" children. This is such a touching, beautiful piece of writing, very appropriate for Mother's Day.
Jeannie, your complementary poem is great.
I think the term "mother" is very complex. Nobody can explain why kids turn out a certain way. Yet our society judges kids' behavior in terms of how "good" or "bad" a mother is. Parents fall under heavy judgement, and in reality, it's not fair to judge a parent by his/her children.
Hi, Beth! Always a delight to see your thoughtful replies in my Substack space. I thought of you when I read Teri Leigh’s post, mainly because of your beautiful rendering of motherhood looking differently than you imagined when you shared about how you became a mother.
You’re right. I agree that the term “mother,” both as a noun and a verb, is multifaceted and complex. So much to think about.
Teri Leigh, this touches my heart in so many ways. I never wanted children, either. I didn’t want to bring a child into the world as it was in the early 1970s, or into life with me as a Mom with no mothering skills. I had one child and second-guessed myself with his every breath. So I said ine simple thing, “what would my father do?”, and then I did the opposite of that. I was a single Mom for most of his life, and now he is a single Dad with 4 children. Today I am a Mom and a step Mom, a grandmother and a step grandmother. I have mothered so many children who are not my own that I have come to realise that they, too, are my own - being a mother isn’t a position in relation to a family; it’s a privelege that I can undertake with anyone… and thus I have a huge family!
Jeannie, what can I say… Your words, I feel them, I have felt them, and I have taken those actions which always seemed an action too far. We are strong, deep, beautiful women, and every thought and feeling we have goes deep. Sometimes we just need to let that go, don’t we, and accept that we are flawed and also very loved and loving.
I think every mother always second-guessing every breath. It's the nature of being mother and how deeply we feel the ties that are connected to our wombs, whether physical or energetic.
In the end, we love and we have to say "we did the best we could with what we had at the time." and trust that those we have nurtured and nourished have acquired the wisdom and skills we gifted to them, and they can use those gifts (or not) as they so choose.
So true, Teri. It took me quite some time to come to that awareness. It was very freeing to understand, accept, and honour the woman I am today, with no expectations.
Everything you wrote, Heather, touched me deeply. You're right - mothering isn't restricted to biology. It's a privilege in the way we love, in the way we show up in our relationships.
And how wonderful that you put it out there our collective strength as women. I feel that power today. You are part of me and my journey.
This woman’s story could be my own. I so relate to the way she expresses the grief of never mothering or nursing your own child.
This is an age old story of women crying over their bareness
And like her, I have taken my mother in needs and poured that into nieces and nephews and young women who can use some extra nurturing and love
My sister who has never had children is very much the same between the two of us we have helped raise some nieces and nephews
They fill that void in an amazing way and they always send us Mother’s Day messages and let us know how much they appreciate our other mothering
This is the message I shared with that sister on Mother’s Day :
Happy Mother’s Day, Becky. You have done more than a mothers share of mothering. ♥️
Here’s our verse :
““Sing, barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband,” says the Lord.”
Isaiah 54:1 NIV
Here’s to all the women out there that didn’t bear their own children , but have taken that grief and used it in a positive way to touch more people than they may have touched have they’ve been raising their own children.
That's really beautiful, Julie, that your nieces and nephews acknowledge you on Mother's Day. I really appreciate what you shared here. Childlessness is definitely an aspect of womanhood that isn't openly talked about. Teri Leigh and I plan to co-host a Live about this topic soon.
I can never understand the sadness or emptiness of being a female who wants children -- yet doesn't have any. But I understand loss, emptiness, and sadness. I'm so sorry for your loss.
However, the energy of "giving" and "helping others grow" is certainly a gift of yours in full bloom, filling others' lives with the fragrance of love, creativity, and compassion.
Eddie, what a kind-hearted and thoughtful comment for Teri Leigh here. The Rumi quote brings home so much. I think each of us could reflect on that quote and unearth what it means in our own lives.
You are right—grieving is a universal human experience. We all grieve in our own ways and for very specific things and people and dreams. I think those threads of commonality are what bring us together, no matter how different our experiences may be.
That’s so interesting. A few days ago I saw an image of my daughter Felicity’s heart, and it was filled with holes. Then I saw this bright light shine through and begin to heal the holes.
Beautiful post! I didn’t biologically give birth either, but raised a step-daughter since she was six. A granddaughter that my mom never acknowledged as a granddaughter, but only as a step-granddaughter. If my mom heard me refer to her as “my daughter” to someone new, she was quick to interject “stepdaughter”. I hated her in those moments. I told her many times that she was wrong, that my daughter is my daughter in every way that counts. So, yes, Teri Leigh, I wholeheartedly agree with you that there are a multitude of ways to be a mother. I see you and celebrate you.
There are so many amazing ways to show up as a mother, and you did just that, for that little 6-year-old!
Here on substack, a subscriber liked my comments and replies to her so much that she asked me to be her "soul mama" and she sent me a Happy Mother's Day text. The first one I ever got from someone who really treats me like I am her mother.
Yes, Nancy—”my daughter is my daughter in every way that counts.” I love that. So true. It’s really important to pay attention the language we use surrounding all sorts of topics, especially sensitive ones like family/motherhood. I appreciate you reminding us that.
Beautifully written, asking questions I'd never considered. I lost my mother when I was 20, just as I was becoming an adult, and only a few years before I married and had my first child. 41 years later, I remember my mother as well as other women who provided warmth and love when I needed it. My mother-in-law for one, my wife, my sister-in-law, and others. We overly define "mother," and we over-judge mothers. We are a judgmental nation and I hate that about us. We lack the compassion we need to survive. It's something we've forgotten. You remind me of that here.
There's a deeper reverence and respect for mothers that exists in the auras of those who lost their mothers young. It's evident in you. thank you for sharing it with us here.
Thanks for your thoughtful comment and for sharing part of your own story. I appreciate how you said we “overly define” and “over-judge” mothers. It is so validating to hear that from a man! At least to me. I continue to marvel at how many sensitive and compassionate humans come together in my small slice of Substack to share their intimate experiences and support each other. So glad you are here. Welcome. My hope is to make our corner of the world a bit kinder.
Jeannie,
Your poem speaks to so many of the silent "ghost" mothers. I know a number of mothers who children fell to addiction and became criminals, some who have been in and out of the prison system and others who have been in and out of homelessness. The mothers all internalize and blame themselves to some degree, and still they love, no matter what. That's what it means to be a mother. to love, no matter what.
Teri Leigh, I often hear that you hold a wellspring of stories. Just the bits you share in the comments or on Notes, and I am instantly fascinated, in awe, questions swirling in my mind. I wish I could talk to you and ask them in real time.
You are right, and to your point, I want to generalize for a moment and say I believe that all women somehow internalize and blame ourselves. We live in a society that imposes impossible expectations upon us, so how could we not? It’s an incredible testament to the power of women everywhere that we have not only survived, but we are learning how to flourish.
we all have a wellspring of stories within us. I have just practiced (and come from a legacy of storytellers) the skill. Stories spill out of me. And soon enough, we will share stories together in real time!
and yes, women are phenomenal in all we face and how we stay strong and true in ourselves.
My bonus daughter is childless. Some kind of clock is telling her that the time is almost up. She has been pregnant a few times but lost all of them early. Her sister has two children along with grandkids. She gets depressed and has trouble holding a job. She has come to the realization that she may not have children. Sometimes she will walk up and want my wife or myself to get a hug.
Thanks for sharing that, Paul, and for the way you honor your daughter's experience with tenderness.
the word tenderness is all about nursing the wound. There's the sharpness of the wound in the sharp t and thudding d...but the soft N and S sounds are the healing. You just provided me and all the readers with that tiny dose of healing.
Paul, thank you for sharing this. The fact that your bonus daughter asks for hugs is a sign of your depth of relationship with her. Being the sibling that doesn't have kids when the others do, it's very difficult. There's an invisibility that happens that is completely unexplainable.
TeriLeigh I am so touched by your writing. Very moving, I'm feeling such emotion.
Jeannie your poem is incredible. I love this very much.
There's more than one way to mother, and it doesn't always need to be about your own children.
We learn how to ( or how not to) mother ourselves from our own mothers or other caregivers. We can mother ourselves.
And sometimes that's enough.
Thanks for everything you shared here, Sam. When Teri Leigh and I were in conversation about this - based in large part on a few of my recent Notes and essays, where I wrote I didn't want to be a mother and then had five kids - I realized her story carries so much truth in it and it's a story that I knew would resonate with many.
Thank you for the acknowledgment of my poem, too. That means a lot.
Jeannie, I'm just so honored to be invited to write for your publication. What you are doing here for mothers everywhere is sacred.
It was an honor to hold space for your story, Teri Leigh. Truly. And one of my SanKalpas is, “I hold space for the sacred." :)
ooooh! I love that sankalpa for you! a twist in “sacred space” which is what you create when you hold it.
Thank you Sam. I needed to read this today about mothering myself. I don't think I do that enough...I'm so good at showing up for others.
Oh, my dear friend. Thank you for this post.
When you wrote, "I feel like a ghost mother. Real and present, but see-through," it struck a deep chord with me. Isn't that the paradox of so so many experiences that society doesn’t quite have a category for?
You are undeniably present, you are giving, nurturing, and loving, aand yet because it doesn’t fit into the prescribed mold, it’s almost as if society turns a blind eye. But just as ghosts are believed to carry echoes and energies, so too does your form of motherhood. It’s hauntingly beautiful and powerful, and maybe it's time we acknowledge that 'see-through' doesn't mean 'insignificant'... it simply means society hasn’t yet learned to see it clearly.
I've seen it clearly. I'm so grateful for you. 🩵
Alex, you always share such supportive and resonant thoughts! I know you and Teri Leigh are close, and I'm glad her piece spoke to you in this way.
I also shared with her that I wrote an essay last fall, which I haven't published, entitled "ghost mother." It just came to me. And so this was the exact phrase that jumped out at me in her essay, too, today.
Jeannie, I really hope you publish your "ghost mother" piece.
I hope I can, too, Teri Leigh. I’m debating on whether to get it published in a lit mag or just do it on Substack. Maybe you would take a look at it and let me know what you think?
of course.
Alex, thank you for reframing this for me. See-through IS hauntingly beautiful. In my shamanic work, it is the hauntingly beautiful, the quietly secret, the under-the-surface truth that is the most profound and powerful medicine as well as the most long lasting.
What a beautiful and loving response! You have certainly touched on something in honoring the presence of those society does not see.
Thanks, Susan, for witnessing that truth.
Thank you Susan. On these special holidays, I do believe there is always a subset population that feels "ghosted". Someone needs to see them.
When I was reading this post I realized how intertwined mothers and daughters can be. I think it gives me more joy to give to my daughter than it does to receive from her. Though I love that, too. But I couldn't feel that kind of peace and happiness
without her. We're a dyad. I'm guessing your mother is the same; she needs your love. It's a partnership.
OTOH, I'm not sure I'll ever have grandkids, much as I would cherish them. So I've adopted our neighbor girl. I'm sure it's not the same, but it fills my need.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that people without children are not less than. And having a career is having a career, not an equivalent. Every relationship needs two people, and though you are not in a relationship with birth children, you are just as necessary in other relationships. And it sounds like you have mothered brilliantly.
Best wishes!
Wow, Kai, that's a poignant truth you wrote - that every relationship needs two people, and those relationships are often fraught and complicated (like between mother and daughter, as you said). That really was a stunning insight. Thank you.
Kai - I totally agree with you that mothers and daughters have a deep intertwining. I can just see it energetically as I read your words. when I look at my bloodline and all the blessings my grandmother had that her mother didn't have, and all the things she gave my mother that she didn't have...and then how my mother gave me what she didn't have, there is a joy that mothers must feel in giving to their daughters what they couldn't have for themselves. It's both a living vicariously through and a threading on of the legacy. I see it differently in mothers/daughters than in fathers/sons or fathers/daugthers or mothers/son.
This was gorgeous and I have now subbed to Teri, so thank you for this gorgeous merging of two beautiful souls. I chose to remain child-free in this lifetime, something I've never regretted, but it was a choice that came from my sensitivity to the sorrow in the world even though I also see the beauty and joy. My best friend often says to me that "I'm the best mother she knows" because I honored that voice inside me that told me not to procreate. Like so many mothers without human children there is still so much mothering to do be done in this world. All of that mothering matters, however we choose to do it (or however it chooses to actualize because sometimes it isn't a choice).
Stephanie, thank you for subscribing to my publication as a result of this. Means the world to me! There is so much mothering to be done in this world. And all of it matters. While I tried to have children in different ways, ultimately, I chose not to because the circumstances were never right...and my mother was needed in different ways.
I was so happy to hear this, Teri Leigh!
That's really a beautiful rendering of your choice to be childless Stephanie, and I want you to know I appreciate you sharing that in my Substack space. Plus, how happy I am that Teri found a new subscriber from sharing her story here. ♥️
Oh my word. Beautifully written. The heart is so deep in its capacity to feel, and heal. Mothering, whomever and wherever it is needed, is the reflection of a woman’s innate need to love. Thank you for sharing this. Mind if I tuck it away so I can read it over and over again? Happy Mother’s Day! ❤️
Kelly, yes! Share and read it as often as you want. I'm so glad Teri Leigh's essay reached a part of you that found so much resonance. She put into words the experience of many, many people, I believe.
"Mind if I tuck it away so I can read it over and over again?"
You just made my day. these are words every writer craves to hear.
Thank you.
Yes! I was delighted to read that, too, for you Teri Leigh! :)
Thank you so much for your creativity and open trusting. You have given voice to so many emotions that women experience. It reminds me of the call to live on the outside and reach people who are not mainstream. You are worthy as a woman and a mother, and your contributions are invaluable to all of society. I loved your poem, Jeannie. My heart is so full right now, and it is not because I am being spoiled by my children. It is full because I appreciate all that I have been given on this day from unexpected sources.
Wow, Susan, that's the power of the maternal heart isn't it? This love today soars and spreads and I just want to say that I'm deeply humbled and grateful that Teri Leigh's story (and thanks for mentioning my poem, too) resonated so deeply with you in such a satisfying way.
Jeannie, your poem really is the perfect closing to my piece. It pulls together all the threads of mothers everywhere.
Awww, that’s kind of you to say. I think both together add a lot of texture to the conversation surrounding motherhood.
Susan, I can feel, through your words here, the fullness of your heart. Thank you for sharing that with me. It is the fullness of the human experience, all the pieces of it, that make me feel most alive.
Teri, what a poignant essay about being childless and yet nurturing many "parentless" children. This is such a touching, beautiful piece of writing, very appropriate for Mother's Day.
Jeannie, your complementary poem is great.
I think the term "mother" is very complex. Nobody can explain why kids turn out a certain way. Yet our society judges kids' behavior in terms of how "good" or "bad" a mother is. Parents fall under heavy judgement, and in reality, it's not fair to judge a parent by his/her children.
you've made me want to go all in on my word-nerdiness and do a full analysis of the word "mother"
Teri Leigh, PLEASE DO!
my next Words are Spells post...
Yes! Please tag me in that so I don't miss it.
I’m a word-nerd too. :)
HAHAHA, I love that phrase!
Hi, Beth! Always a delight to see your thoughtful replies in my Substack space. I thought of you when I read Teri Leigh’s post, mainly because of your beautiful rendering of motherhood looking differently than you imagined when you shared about how you became a mother.
You’re right. I agree that the term “mother,” both as a noun and a verb, is multifaceted and complex. So much to think about.
Teri Leigh, this touches my heart in so many ways. I never wanted children, either. I didn’t want to bring a child into the world as it was in the early 1970s, or into life with me as a Mom with no mothering skills. I had one child and second-guessed myself with his every breath. So I said ine simple thing, “what would my father do?”, and then I did the opposite of that. I was a single Mom for most of his life, and now he is a single Dad with 4 children. Today I am a Mom and a step Mom, a grandmother and a step grandmother. I have mothered so many children who are not my own that I have come to realise that they, too, are my own - being a mother isn’t a position in relation to a family; it’s a privelege that I can undertake with anyone… and thus I have a huge family!
Jeannie, what can I say… Your words, I feel them, I have felt them, and I have taken those actions which always seemed an action too far. We are strong, deep, beautiful women, and every thought and feeling we have goes deep. Sometimes we just need to let that go, don’t we, and accept that we are flawed and also very loved and loving.
I think every mother always second-guessing every breath. It's the nature of being mother and how deeply we feel the ties that are connected to our wombs, whether physical or energetic.
In the end, we love and we have to say "we did the best we could with what we had at the time." and trust that those we have nurtured and nourished have acquired the wisdom and skills we gifted to them, and they can use those gifts (or not) as they so choose.
There’s so much self-compassion involved in this, Teri Leigh. So much.
So true, Teri. It took me quite some time to come to that awareness. It was very freeing to understand, accept, and honour the woman I am today, with no expectations.
Everything you wrote, Heather, touched me deeply. You're right - mothering isn't restricted to biology. It's a privilege in the way we love, in the way we show up in our relationships.
And how wonderful that you put it out there our collective strength as women. I feel that power today. You are part of me and my journey.
This is so beautiful: “being a mother isn’t a position in relation to a family; it’s a privelege that I can undertake with anyone…”
🙏
Oh dear friend James...in many ways, you have mothered me!
This woman’s story could be my own. I so relate to the way she expresses the grief of never mothering or nursing your own child.
This is an age old story of women crying over their bareness
And like her, I have taken my mother in needs and poured that into nieces and nephews and young women who can use some extra nurturing and love
My sister who has never had children is very much the same between the two of us we have helped raise some nieces and nephews
They fill that void in an amazing way and they always send us Mother’s Day messages and let us know how much they appreciate our other mothering
This is the message I shared with that sister on Mother’s Day :
Happy Mother’s Day, Becky. You have done more than a mothers share of mothering. ♥️
Here’s our verse :
““Sing, barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband,” says the Lord.”
Isaiah 54:1 NIV
Here’s to all the women out there that didn’t bear their own children , but have taken that grief and used it in a positive way to touch more people than they may have touched have they’ve been raising their own children.
You are seen and heard !!
Thank you Julie. I feel seen, and heard, and held, and supported.
I wish my nephews would remember me on Mother's Day like yours do. That's beautiful.
That's really beautiful, Julie, that your nieces and nephews acknowledge you on Mother's Day. I really appreciate what you shared here. Childlessness is definitely an aspect of womanhood that isn't openly talked about. Teri Leigh and I plan to co-host a Live about this topic soon.
Thank you for sharing this piece 💚
Thanks for stopping by to read and show Teri Leigh some love!
Thank you for making the time to tell us! It was a special piece to collaborate on.
I agree, Teri Leigh. Looking forward to maybe doing a Live with you to continue the discussion.
Let’s plan this! Text me!
I’ll send you a DM, because I’m getting ready to leave for my kid’s prek show in a short bit.
"The wound is where the light enters you". Rumi
I can never understand the sadness or emptiness of being a female who wants children -- yet doesn't have any. But I understand loss, emptiness, and sadness. I'm so sorry for your loss.
However, the energy of "giving" and "helping others grow" is certainly a gift of yours in full bloom, filling others' lives with the fragrance of love, creativity, and compassion.
Eddie, what a kind-hearted and thoughtful comment for Teri Leigh here. The Rumi quote brings home so much. I think each of us could reflect on that quote and unearth what it means in our own lives.
You are right—grieving is a universal human experience. We all grieve in our own ways and for very specific things and people and dreams. I think those threads of commonality are what bring us together, no matter how different our experiences may be.
Eddie. That's one of my favorite Rumi quotes. and I've often used the inverse..."the wound is the place where your light comes out of you."
and there's that bloom word again...whenever you use it I see all the flowers just bursting out of you! thank you for that!
That’s so interesting. A few days ago I saw an image of my daughter Felicity’s heart, and it was filled with holes. Then I saw this bright light shine through and begin to heal the holes.
Beautiful post! I didn’t biologically give birth either, but raised a step-daughter since she was six. A granddaughter that my mom never acknowledged as a granddaughter, but only as a step-granddaughter. If my mom heard me refer to her as “my daughter” to someone new, she was quick to interject “stepdaughter”. I hated her in those moments. I told her many times that she was wrong, that my daughter is my daughter in every way that counts. So, yes, Teri Leigh, I wholeheartedly agree with you that there are a multitude of ways to be a mother. I see you and celebrate you.
There are so many amazing ways to show up as a mother, and you did just that, for that little 6-year-old!
Here on substack, a subscriber liked my comments and replies to her so much that she asked me to be her "soul mama" and she sent me a Happy Mother's Day text. The first one I ever got from someone who really treats me like I am her mother.
I almost texted you Happy Mother's Day on Sunday but I wasn't exactly sure if that would have been helpful or not.
from you, I would’ve known exactly what it meant…soul-sister!
That's beautiful! I believe those sentiments are more true than we often realize. I'm sure it's a well-deserved acknowledgement! 🌷
So true, Nancy! :)
Yes, Nancy—”my daughter is my daughter in every way that counts.” I love that. So true. It’s really important to pay attention the language we use surrounding all sorts of topics, especially sensitive ones like family/motherhood. I appreciate you reminding us that.
Beautifully written, asking questions I'd never considered. I lost my mother when I was 20, just as I was becoming an adult, and only a few years before I married and had my first child. 41 years later, I remember my mother as well as other women who provided warmth and love when I needed it. My mother-in-law for one, my wife, my sister-in-law, and others. We overly define "mother," and we over-judge mothers. We are a judgmental nation and I hate that about us. We lack the compassion we need to survive. It's something we've forgotten. You remind me of that here.
There's a deeper reverence and respect for mothers that exists in the auras of those who lost their mothers young. It's evident in you. thank you for sharing it with us here.
Thanks for your thoughtful comment and for sharing part of your own story. I appreciate how you said we “overly define” and “over-judge” mothers. It is so validating to hear that from a man! At least to me. I continue to marvel at how many sensitive and compassionate humans come together in my small slice of Substack to share their intimate experiences and support each other. So glad you are here. Welcome. My hope is to make our corner of the world a bit kinder.
I’ve been nurtured by
a doctor
by a nurse
a teacher
who saw me more
than my own mother
could
Mothers come
in many forms.
What a beautiful, stark, and profound poem, Julie. Thank you. The white space says so much.
agreed. so often the simple space of a stark poem says the most. the white space of this poem feels like the energy that the "ghost mother" holds.
“Ghost mother”—I love that. Thank you! ❤️
This phrase is really resonating with a lot of people, Julie! :) That’s exciting to me.
It describes a sense of being that’s hard to put into words.
I lost 4 babies early in pregnancy, and the phrase “ghost mother” describes the feeling I have…
I feel like we have a whole publication brewing here. "ghost mother" and it is a collection of writings of mothers.
Oh, wow, Julie. I wonder what might happen if you played around with that concept in your own writing? What might come up for you?
Thank you, fellow nurturer. ❤️
You’re welcome, Julie. :)