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šŸ’Mother's Day for the Silent Warriors: A Love Letter to the Mothers Who Keep Showing Up



Mother’s Day can feel complicated.


For many, it’s a day of joy and celebration. But for others, especially those navigating the long, weary road of coparenting with someone who continues to create chaos, confusion, or pain—it can feel like a quiet ache no one sees.


If you’re mothering through manipulation, through cold indifference, through a co-parent who makes everything harder than it needs to be—this letter is for you.


If you’re watching your children get pulled into emotional dynamics they don’t understand…


If you’re carrying the weight of making sure they’re safe, regulated, and emotionally supported while the other parent disregards their needs or undermines the structure you’ve built…


If you’re biting your tongue, choosing peace over power struggles, and making sacrifice after sacrifice just to preserve some sense of normalcy…


I see you.


You are not weak for feeling exhausted.

You are not overreacting.

You are not alone.


You are living in a system that often forces you to share time with someone who doesn’t show up in the ways your children need. Someone who may be charming on paper, but destabilizing behind the scenes. Someone who prioritizes control, image, or their own comfort over your child’s emotional reality.


And somehow, you’re still showing up.


You’re the steady presence.

The one who knows which snack they like best, what their nighttime fears are, when they’re pretending to be okay but aren’t.

You’re the one keeping track of their heart—not just their homework.


That’s not small. That’s everything.


So this Mother’s Day, even if no one else acknowledges the depths of what you’re holding, I will.


This isn’t the version of motherhood you imagined. And yet—you’re still showing up with love, with boundaries, with compassion that refuses to give up. You are parenting through impossibility. And your consistency, even in the face of resistance, matters deeply.


Whether your child sees it now or not—your love is the anchor.


So today, take a breath and honor the woman who holds it all.

You are not just surviving.

You are mothering with soul, with wisdom, with unshakable heart.


And even if the system doesn’t protect what you know is right—even if you’re left helpless in the face of injustice—your love is still the safest home your children will ever know.


Keep going.

Keep trusting yourself.

Keep healing—for you, and for the future that still waits to unfold.


You are not broken.

You are rising.


Happy Mother’s Day, brave one.


With you always,

Jackie

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