Learning to Mother Yourself After Loss
Let’s talk about this… because someone needs to.
When you lose your mother, the world shifts in ways no one can prepare you for. There’s a silence that follows the funeral, a kind of quiet that hums with reality: the grief support brigade isn’t coming. Everyone eventually goes back to their lives, but you’re left holding the pieces of yours.
That’s when I learned the importance of mothering myself. Not as a replacement for my mom — no one could ever fill that sacred space — but as an act of tenderness, survival, and love. I had to learn how to hold myself the way she once held me. To speak softly to the parts of me that still ache. To give myself permission to rest, to cry, to be.
During my 30 Days of Soft Healing, I shared daily reflections with my community — little rituals that help you return to yourself when the world feels too loud: soothing bath salts, detoxifying foot soaks, journaling, gardening, loofah soaps, simmer pots, slow tea moments, and the meditative rhythm of simply breathing through what hurts. These aren’t just self-care practices — they’re self-mothering practices. They remind you that love still lives here.
After I posted my “Cut Them Off” video on TikTok where I talked about those who watched you drown instead of helping you swim through your grief -- hundreds of people shared that they grieved alone too. That hit me hard. Because the truth is, we’re not saying anyone else is responsible for our healing… but support softens suffering.
If you’re wondering where to start, begin here:
Three Ways to Start Mothering Yourself
Listen to your needs without judgment. When you’re tired — rest. When you need space — take it. When you cry — let it out. You deserve your own gentleness.
Create small daily rituals. Light a candle for your mom. Soak your feet in warm water and gratitude. Write her a letter that begins with, “I wish you were here because…”
Speak kindly to yourself. Every time your inner critic shows up, imagine how your mother would have responded. Borrow her voice of love until it becomes your own.
And if you’re looking for meditative activities to anchor your healing, here are seven to help you come back home to yourself:
Journaling before bed — empty your thoughts, not your heart.
Gardening — let something grow in the same soil where your pain once sat.
Slow breathing — four counts in, six counts out; peace in, pain out.
Bath or foot soak with intentional ingredients like lavender and rose.
Candle gazing — focus on the flame, release your tension into the light.
Walking in silence — let nature become your counselor.
Creating something with your hands — soap, salt, or something beautiful that reminds you of her.
The journey of mothering yourself isn’t about replacing her love, it’s about becoming a safe place for your own heart to land. I thought my grief would always feel like a broken piece of me, but what I’ve learned is this: the same love that made the pain so deep is the same love that’s teaching me how to heal.
And that… is the quiet miracle of learning to mother yourself. 💛